#Anakin is very gender

[phoenixyfriend]

This is a "what I do" poll, not an "all possible variants" poll, to be clear. That's why no 'in denial trans dude': I can't really imagine closeted or unaware trans dude Anakin since we see 9yo Ani being pretty unambiguously A Boy

"nb by definition, cis by default" is basically like the "Anakin gets pregnant to cause problems" omegaverse fic where he's technically a "cis" alpha male but only because exploring it would be a lot of effort. Like. 'Man' is close enough for government work.

EDIT: I managed to forget 'nb and owning it' but too late now. I mean I have femboy/drag but that's not the same thing, despite having occasional overlap.

[wlwanakin]

actually always thinking of darth vader through a transgender lense bc i’m insane but also bc it is SO EASY to do a trans reading of his whole deal like to me, personally, in the star wars in my brain that is better than yours and doesn’t gaf about authorial intent, darth vader is in part a manifestation/personification of the horrifying feelings of loss of control that come with long-term repression/closeting or forced detransition. and this works on a purely superficial level because darth vader is hypermasculine in a way that starkly contrasts a lot of anakin’s softer/more androgynous traits but if we are to actually think beyond the superficial the themes of loss of autonomy and rejection of personal identity in favor of one given to you are veryyyy resonant from a trans perspective. constant insistent rejection of your true self. “that name no longer has any meaning to me.” even his voice is not his own. etc etc. vader is a reinvention of anakin but that reinvention is into an empty husk whose entire existence is to be another person’s pawn. vader is not so much a new identity as he is a lack of one. and i don’t want to dismiss that on a literal textual level disability is a part of the Body aspect but all this is far less about his injuries and part more about how they’re treated, specifically how his body is altered in ways that are entirely about creating a more imposing image and basically turning him into a weapon (there is no reason for him to be 6’7), and that again ties into the idea of Erosion Of Self. and i think these aspects come together in a way that is so easy to read as trans, or at least that resonates with me as a trans person, because so much of repressing as a trans person is inventing an empty version of yourself and accepting your physical state as something you are fundamentally not in control of and self-denial for others. and vader encompasses a lot of those feelings taken to body horror space opera extremes

[saltpepperbeard]

absolutely adore it when an ofmd post breaks out of containment and i see tags like "i don't go here but the vibe looks immaculate" or "i don't go here but i want to" or "i don't go here but the gender is incredible."

like it just makes me sit here and stare at my activity like

[aces-to-apples]

I just want to thank Hayden Christensen for having a smile straight out of a romance novel. Man literally starts smiling with the right side of his mouth before anything else, it's insane. Thanks, man, it means a lot to me personally.

[friendlyneighbourhoodelf]

thinking about padmé and gender. femininity is a performance and she’s winning

[stelashe]

Tumble is like radfems are everywhere be careful and the person saying it is one

[anakinstwinklebunny]

SWEETHEART!ANAKIN HEADCANONS 3

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Sweetheart!Anakin who knows how much you love stargazing, so one night, he surprises you with a late-night picnic under the stars

Sweetheart!Anakin who was great with kids. To even see him interact with other children as their uncle was so sweet. How he always listened to them, played and entertained them, how he was almost all the time surrounded by running little ones was just the most endearing thing you've ever seen those days

Sweetheart!Anakin who obviously had a golden retriever personality yet with some light shyness (yet it was attractive)

Sweetheart!Anakin who loved to hug you straight after coming back from work. He always said that seeing you was 'his favorite part of the day' and he had to at least have five minutes of hugging you before he could even go undress to some more comfortable clothes

Sweetheart!Anakin who was completely into decorating house for each season (like winter, fall, Easter, etc) with you

Sweetheart!Anakin who actually had a conversation with you about having kids. Although he was sleepy, all cuddled up to you after the long Christmas day spent with his and yours family, and he had a small baby fever (that you acknowledged since he sometimes had a habit of stopping by and looking through the baby clothes). So he was half 'alive' while he was asking you about having little ones running all around, although he highlighted that it's your body and it should be your choice to have kids.

Sweetheart!Anakin who actually collected Lego's. He had a small room for it and in free time he just went there, sometimes closed the doors to be with himself (although if you needed him or just wanted to be with him he didn't stop you from coming inside) and could even build an entire Lego city

Sweetheart!Anakin who wasn't a true sub and wasn't a true dom either. He'd not slap you or hurt you during sex. He knew he'd feel awful afterwards, even if you'd assure him it's okay, that you don't mind. So he tried to gently destroy you

Sweetheart!Anakin who began to feel suspicious about your behavior. Out of a sudden the smell of your lovely coffee was disgusting for you and brought a wave of nausea through you. Also your often morning sicknesses, and stuff like that

Sweetheart!Anakin who actually teared up after finding out you're pregnant and made sure to at least appear at most of your doctor appointments. In general he was very devoted/committed to your pregnancy. You needed a special pillow for pregnant women? He'd buy it the same day you mentioned it. Your back hurt? He'd make sure to relief pain as much as he could. Your feet were sore? He would leave what he had been doing to help you. You felt self-conscious about your body? He'd make sure to remind you how beautiful you are, how glowing, how radiant you are to him every.single.day

Sweetheart!Anakin who trained putting on diapers on everything. From plastic dolls to watermelons, to his mother's cat

Sweetheart!Anakin who was extremely cuddly after your announcement of pregnancy. He'd gently stroke your swollen belly, often searching for the baby's movements

Sweetheart!Anakin who absolutely was adoring you (even more) for carrying a literal human being in your own body for nine months. He himself made sure to remind you how strong you are, how he's proud of you and how he wouldn't be able to do it himself. For him you were a true inspiration, a woman who deserved to be pleased every day, a true super hero. No one could do it like you did, especially if you had not one baby but two

Sweetheart!Anakin who teased you about the gender of the baby;

"I'm fine, just a little dizzy," you said, brushing Anakin's concerned question about your mood. You knew Anakin was worried, but you didn't want to make a big deal out of it. "Really, it's nothing."

He frowned immediately, his smile fading as concern took over his features after seeing your tired face. "You sure? Want to sit down? We can head home if you'd prefer. Padmé won’t mind; she’s more excited about this baby than any of our friends," he added with a playful roll of his eyes.

"No, I’m okay. It’s not like he’s kicking all day or anything,"

“He?” Anakin raised an eyebrow. “I thought you told your doctor to keep it a secret.”

"I didn’t hear it from the doctor," you watched his confusion grow. "It’s my... motherly intuition" you added with a proud smirk.

“Motherly intuition, huh?” Anakin chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. “With kicks that hard? Definitely a girl” he grinned widely.

Sweetheart!Anakin who was shocked to find out you had twins yet was extremely excited, saying he'll have a bigger 'Skywalker's army'

Sweetheart!Anakin who actually was nervous with you when your waters broke. Yet, he refused to leave your side. Almost having an argument with the doctor

Sweetheart!Anakin who sobbed after holding the twins for the first time; a baby boy and baby girl

Sweetheart!Anakin who told you to absolutely take at least one entire week to take rest after childbirth (without any buts). So, the kids were on him and he brought them to you only when they needed milk (yes, it tired him out but you deserved like no one else a proper break)

Sweetheart!Anakin who had a deal with you that you change diaper by turns;

You were both a mess, but not the bad kind—just the kind that comes with adjusting to the whirlwind of having a newborns. It was exhausting, overwhelming, and yet, you wouldn't trade it for anything. The quiet of the night was suddenly interrupted by the boy's sharp cries from his crib, signaling either a dirty diaper or another round of breastfeeding. You groaned softly, feeling the weight of the day pulling you already down, and reached out to gently pat Anakin's toned arm, trying to rouse him from his sleep.

“Ani, your turn…” you mumbled, barely opening your eyes, too drained to even move.

Anakin grumbled in response, his head shifting slightly on the pillow, his messy hair falling into his eyes and obscuring his vision.

“Ugh, why my turn…” he muttered, slowly removing his arm from across his face, his eyes still squeezed shut against the reality of waking up. “...I changed him last time” he added, his voice low and raspy with sleep.

“I know, I know…” you replied, your voice soft and tired as you burrowed deeper into the covers. “Just… change him, please… I can’t handle his crying right now.”

Anakin sighed, the sound a mixture of resignation and love. He slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the dim light filtering into the room from the moonlight, and sat up with a groan, rubbing his face with both hands to try to shake off the fog of sleep. “What time is it…?” he asked, his voice still heavy with exhaustion.

“Dunno… Just… go, please,” you murmured, turning over in bed, desperately trying to find a comfortable position and a moment’s peace.

“I’m going, I’m going…” Anakin muttered, dragging himself out of bed. His body protested with every step, but he made his way to the crib and gently scooped up their wailing son into his arms. “Hey, buddy… hey there,” he whispered soothingly, pressing a soft kiss to his tiny head. He just prayed the girl next to him wouldn't actually wake up right now

The baby’s cries softened slightly at the sound of his father’s voice, but the discomfort remained. Anakin walked over to the changing table, his movements slow but careful, and laid the boy down, his large hands dwarfing the baby’s small frame. “Shh, it’s okay… Daddy’s got you,” he murmured

Suddenly, after Anakin removed the dirty diaper from the newborn, he felt a warm spray hit his chest. He froze for a moment, disbelief and exhaustion warring on his face. “Dammit—” he cursed under his breath, quickly grabbing the diaper and trying to cover the baby before the tiny stream could go any further. “Little—” he started, but cut himself off with a sigh, knowing he couldn't really be mad at the baby.

The sound of your soft giggles broke through his frustration. You didn't have to look up to know what had happened and you would be lying if it wasn't somehow funny. But not for Anakin..He snapped his head in your direction, his eyes narrowing playfully as he saw you hiding your face in a pillow, trying to muffle your laughter.

“Oh, so this is funny to you, huh?” he grumbled, though there was no real heat in his voice. He finished changing the boy, making sure the new diaper was secure, before picking him up and heading back to the bed. Anakin flopped down beside you, carefully laying the boy in the space between you two. He knew how the boy was sensitive and just a small movement of putting him down to his crib could end up with more cries

“Yeah, go on, laugh all you want,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcastic amusement

“At least his aim is already on point…” you whispered, still grinning, unable to resist poking fun at the situation.

Anakin let out a mock groan, glancing down at the boy, who had mercifully stopped crying and was now staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes, cooing softly. “His aim is all over the damn place,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward. He reached out to gently brush a finger across the boy's cheek, his frustration melting away as he looked at his son.

Sweetheart!Anakin who actually was so uplifting after you had twins in more ways than one but especially about sex;

The quiet room was filled with the soft sounds of Anakin’s belt unbuckling and his pants unzipping, the noise almost deafening in the intimate silence. The kids were with your mother, so the house was all for you. And since you haven't had enough time for such activities lately, why not use such opportunity now? He continued to trail gentle kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he spoke, “I’ve been wanting to touch you all day..”

You hesitated, a mixture of shyness and concern creeping into your voice. “Wait—I… You know that after childbirth, that place isn’t the same… Maybe we should wait a bit longer…”

Anakin froze for a moment, his lips still pressed against your neck as he absorbed your words. A flicker of disappointment crossed his mind, but it was quickly replaced by a wave of understanding and concern.. He lifted his head, his warm breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “Are you sure? Is it… uncomfortable for you?”

You looked away, your voice trembling slightly with anxiety. “I just want to make you feel good…but I know that place isn’t the same as before, and—”

Anakin softly shushed you, placing a tender finger on your lips to stop your nervous rambling. “Hey… relax,” he murmured, his tone soothing and patient.

He adjusted his position, hovering above you with his hands resting on either side of your head, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t care about that,” he said firmly but with infinite gentleness. “Your comfort and well-being mean more to me than anything else.”

His gaze softened as his hand moved to caress your face, his fingers now tracing the delicate curve of your jawline. “Don’t worry about me or how it might feel. Your comfort and happiness come first. If you’re not ready, I’ll wait—no matter how long it takes.”

You bit your lip, still uncertain. “I mean, I want to do it… but what if it doesn’t feel the same for you?”

Anakin’s expression softened with a tender smile, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. “Do you really think that’s what matters to me?” he asked, shaking his head slightly, his voice tinged with affectionate amusement.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and reassuring. “It’s not just about the physical sensation for me. It’s about being close to you, sharing that intimacy with you. Any pleasure I get is just a bonus. What truly matters is that you feel safe, loved, and happy.”

His eyes held yours with a sincerity that made your heart swell. “I don’t care if your body has changed. You’re still you—still the woman I love, still as beautiful and sexy as ever.”

Anakin leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours, his breath warm against your skin. “So please… stop worrying about me and just let me love you"

Sweetheart!Anakin who would actually try to help your leaking with milk breasts..;

he paused, his lips still lingering over the sensitive bud, before gently nibbling and teasting it with his tongue. His voice - thick with desire, broke the silence "God, i just want to taste you..every day, every night.."

"A-ani" you gasped, a flush of embarrassment rising as you felt the milk begin to leak from your chest

Anakin's eyes widened slightly as he saw the milk seeping from your chest, a blend of surprise and fascination evident in his gaze.

“Oh… gods…”

He leaned back just enough to take in the sight, his eyes transfixed on the delicate droplets. A surge of primal desire mingled with his deep affection.

His fingers, gentle and tentative, traced the path of the milk, careful not to hurt you “Can I…?” he asked softly, his voice a hushed whisper filled with both awe and longing to which you nodded

Anakin continued his attentions with a careful, deliberate rhythm, his mouth and tongue exploring your chest with a tenderness that bordered on reverence. His gaze remained fixed on your face, every shift in your expression and every soft moan drawing him in further.

Occasionally, he pulled away just enough to murmur against your skin, his voice a low, husky growl laced with a mix of frustration and yearning. “How is our kids so lucky… having this all the time while I only get to savor it so rarely…”

Sweetheart!Anakin who would spend time to write his own short book to read for the bedtime. For him, most of the stories were simply the same and some informations were repeated - princess captured by dragon, etc

Sweetheart!Anakin who would definitely make his own drawings to the book and soon after read it for the bedtime to the twins

Sweetheart!Anakin who had a habit of saying encouraging phrases to his children, especially when they were crying and feeling down;

As some days before, today's was the day where your daughter had a low 'battery' in everything - tantrum after tantrum, cries after cries and it was all getting already to your head. So, to not leave you alone, Anakin of course stepped in and after a timeout and a talk about proper behavior, he began the small therapy session to lift up the girl's mood;

As Anakin knelt before his baby girl, the little girl's wide, brown eyes glistened with unshed tears. Anakin gently took the soft arms of his daughter into his large, calloused hands, offering a smile as he encouraged the toddler with his usual routine. "C'mon, baby," he murmured softly, "I'm big."

The girl's tiny voice struggled to form the words perfectly, although the lisped response only made Anakin's smile grow wider.

"I'm brave," he continued, and after the girl actually repeated he added "I'm beautiful"

"I beautifu-u-u-l-l" the girl sniffed the tears back in

Anakin's smile only widened at his girl's innocent attempts to pronounce the challenging word, and he gently reached out, tenderly wiping away the tears from the child's eyes. "Yes, you are, beautiful. So beautiful, so precious," he whispered, the genuine warmth in his voice showing through every word. He gave his daughter a gently nudge "Now, c'mere, give me huggies."

Sweetheart!Anakin who's daughter's personality was a spitting image of his with your looks and his son had his looks with your personality. So, he was over the moon with all of you

Sweetheart!Anakin who definitely used his friends to have a moment with you;

A brief silence settled between you, the room filled only with the soft sounds of the boy's and girls breathing. They were sleeping on your bed, after a rough night of breastfeeding, diaper change and toothing..Finally, you broke the quietness, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never been this tired.”

Anakin sighed, the exhaustion evident in his voice as he kept his gaze on the ceiling “Me neither… I don’t know how someone so tiny can be so loud and exhausting.” He paused, his tone shifting to something more thoughtful. “What if we let Padmé take them for the weekend?”

You raised an eyebrow, catching his gaze. “You trying to get rid of them already?”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant—” Anakin quickly backpedaled, turning to you with a mix of frustration and weariness in his eyes. “I just thought… maybe for a night or two, we could have a break. Just us.”

You hesitated, the idea of being away from your little twins tugging at your heartstrings. “I’m not even sure if Padmé would want them.”

Anakin’s frustration eased, replaced by a soft scoff. “Are you kidding? She’s absolutely smitten with them. I’d be shocked if she didn’t jump at the chance.” He chuckled lightly, the sound a balm to the heavy atmosphere. “She’s offered to babysit a bunch of times, you know. Don’t you think it’d be nice? Just the two of us… no babies, no screaming, no middle-of-the-night wake-ups…”

You bit your lip, still uncertain. “I don’t know…”

Sensing your hesitation, Anakin reached for your hand, his fingers gently intertwining with yours as he stroked your knuckles with his thumb. “Come on… just picture it. A whole night with nothing to worry about. Just you and me. Do you know how long it’s been since we had that?”

“Probably a month ago,” you replied, half-smiling at the thought.

“Exactly… way too long. I just want to enjoy being with you for a change… we might actually get to sleep” he added, his weariness almost palpable.

You finally nodded, conceding. “Alright… just call her in the morning.”

Anakin’s grin grew wider, relief washing over him. “Don’t worry, she’ll take them. She loves them…” He glanced down at the little boy, who had finally settled. “Just maybe a little less after tonight”

“It’s so quiet…” you murmured, almost as if the silence itself was something to be suspicious of. After padmè took both of your children, the almost uncomfortable quietness overwhelmed your entire room, especially your head

“It is… I can actually hear myself think for once,” he quipped, his tone light and teasing.

“No screaming, no crying… just silence,” you added, almost disbelieving “It’s so quiet, it almost hurts my ears,” you confessed, half-joking but half-serious, as if the absence of noise was too good to be true.

Anakin pulled back slightly to look at you, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Hurts your ears? You’ve been begging for silence for days, and now that you’ve got it, you’re complaining? I thought you’d be celebrating.”

He paused, the smirk fading slightly as he considered your words. “But, honestly, I get it. The buddy's a sweetheart, but he’s a handful and the small princess is already sassy. We both needed this break. You can’t fool me—I saw how tired you were this morning.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he gave you a knowing look that stopped you in your tracks. “Don’t tell me you miss them already.”

Anakin laughed softly, shaking his head in amusement as you kept being quiet, almost ignoring his comment. “Already missing twins after half an hour? You’re such a softie.”

“I’m not a softie” you shot back, a hint of defensiveness in your voice.

“Are you sure about that?” Anakin raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this. “You’re missing our little balls of energy after less than an hour. Sounds pretty soft to me.”

“Stop,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m enjoying the peace and quiet, see?” you waved your hands in the air to emphasize your words

Anakin smirked, obviously not buying it. He crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, really? Then why have you sighed four times in the last five minutes?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not appreciating being caught out. “Oh, stop,” you muttered, turning to head upstairs, hoping to escape his teasing.

Anakin’s laughter followed you, his smirk never fading as he moved to follow. “Ah, the denial is strong in you,” he teased, clearly enjoying every moment of this playful exchange.

Despite your attempt to brush it off, a small frown tugged at your lips as you climbed the stairs, knowing he was right. As much as you relished the rare quiet, a part of you did miss the noise—the chaotic, beautiful noise that had become the soundtrack of your life. Which was completely weird to you.. because what the hell is wrong with you to miss the 24/7 loudness?

He reached the top of the stairs and saw you walking towards the bedroom, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “Come on,” he teased, his voice light and coaxing, “just admit it. Say you miss them.”

You didn’t slow down, but he quickly caught up to you in the hallway, gently grabbing your wrist to stop you in your tracks. He stepped closer, his gaze soft as he looked down at you, still holding onto your wrist. “Admit that you miss those little devilish infants.”

“they're not some devilish infants,” you protested, your brows furrowing defensively. “they're a very cute, sweet, pair of twins with just a few growing teeth, and…” Your voice wavered as tears welled up in your eyes. “And he has those blue, smiling eyes and she has those brown eyes that I adore… that wide, innocent grin… and they have this thin layer of baby hair on their little heads…”

Your voice broke, the tears finally spilling over. Anakin didn’t hesitate—he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight, protective hug. He gently rubbed your back in soothing circles, trying to calm you. “You’re proving my point,” he murmured, his chin resting atop your head.

“I miss them so much…” you sobbed against his chest, your words muffled by his shirt. “I don’t even know why… I’m so tired of changing diapers, feeding them, making sure they doesn’t swallow their toys, changing their clothes… but I still miss them.”

Anakin held you tighter, his embrace firm and reassuring as you cried into his chest. He continued to rub your back, his touch gentle and comforting. “Shhh… it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice soft and calming. “theyre fine. They're with Padmé, and probably having the time of their life right now.”

“Do you really think so?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look up at him, your nose red and eyes puffy from crying.

Anakin smiled tenderly down at you, using his thumb to gently wipe away the tears that clung to your cheeks. He nodded, his expression full of reassurance. “Of course. They're in good hands with Padmé. She’ll take care of them like they're her own.”

A new worry crept into your mind, and you hesitated before voicing it. “Do you think they'll forget about us?”

Anakin couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he shook his head, guiding you gently into the bedroom. “You’re overthinking again, Rapunzel. We’re their parents—there’s no way they'll forget us. You’re his and hers mother. He’ll always know who we are.”

He closed the door behind you, the room now filled with a comforting silence. “Come on,” he urged softly, leading you towards the bed. “Let’s get some sleep. We need it.”

Sweetheart!Anakin who after ten years, on your anniversary, showed you your dreamed house he had been building behind your back and soon later you moved in to live there

Sweetheart!Anakin who sometimes let his kids wake him up in the middle of the night;

Anakin slept deeply, his arm draped over your waist and his head nestled into the crook of your neck. His breathing was steady and calm, his usually intense features softened in sleep.

Suddenly, a jolt woke him as he felt a small, unexpected smack on his leg. He shot up, instantly alert, scanning the room for the source of the disturbance.

His gaze softened when he saw the twins standing beside the bed, wide-eyed and grinning mischievously.

“What are you two doing up at this hour?” Anakin asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and drowsiness.

“Can’t sleep,” the girl replied, her voice lisping with a playful smile.

“We want ice cream!” the boy added, his tone matching his sister's in enthusiasm.

Anakin raised an eyebrow at their request, struggling to suppress a smile. “Ice cream, huh? Nice try, but it’s way too late for that. It’s past your bedtime.”

“Please!” They both chimed in, their pleas growing louder.

Anakin winced at their volume, casting a worried glance at you to make sure you weren’t disturbed. “Shhh... Mommy's sleeping. No ice cream tonight. You need your rest.”

“Please, Daddy... just this last time,” she begged.

Anakin’s resolve wavered as he saw the pleading in her eyes. He knew giving in now might lead to more late-night requests, but their innocent faces made it hard to resist.

“Fine,” he relented, “but this really is the last time. No more ice cream in the middle of the night, okay?”

With a reluctant sigh, Anakin climbed out of bed, his movements stiff from being jolted awake. He ruffled the twins’ hair affectionately, his amusement barely concealed.

“Alright, let’s go,” he mumbled, taking their little hands in his bigger ones. “But we have to be quiet so we don’t wake up your mom.”

Sweetheart!Anakin who actually made time for the special 'family time' - you'd play together different games, go out for long walks (which was a perfect way to tire out the kids), watch on the repeat 'Toy Story' or any different Disney's/ Pixar's real good movies while you're all cuddled up together. Also teaching kids from a young age how to cook/cut (although he swore to God that he was extremely nervous about giving them a small knife to cut vegetables or other stuff)

Sweetheart!Anakin who was a patient man. Not only with you but especially with kids. He didn't yell at them, but yes he gave punishments for bad behavior (mostly like time out, no dessert and etc) but it all was with unconditional love. Anakin always had a small talk with twin (that behaved badly) about their behavior and teach them the proper way to communicate their emotions and needs

Sweetheart!Anakin who made sure to prioritize your time together and in all craziness of raising twins, make time and spend it with you alone (like small dates, flowers without occasion, again the love letters whenever stuck together with flowers or by your bed in morning when he left to work)

Sweetheart!Anakin who made sure to teach the twins the true prospect of love, to treat everyone with kindness and to help others

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker

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[fanfic-obsessed]

For the Republic

Here’s an order 66 fix it that is the confluence of several coincidental misunderstandings. Also why outsourcing your brainwashing is overall a bad idea. 

Let's set the stage, ok?

The first misunderstanding is relatively simple, near the beginning of the war.  A case of similar words causing confusions that is never cleared up.  In this case a series of conversations between various clones and their Jedi about the Jedi’s relationship with the Republic. These conversations leave the Clones, all of them, convinced that the Jedi Order belongs to the Republic, instead of being part of the Republic. You know, in the same way that the Clones belong to the Republic (No matter which side you argue is true, this was not what the Jedi meant). This confusion is so deep that when Slick betrays them all to Ventress, his rants are specifically toward the Republic, and do not mention the Jedi Order at all.   

The second misunderstanding is a bit more complex. It starts with the earliest flash training for the clones, the basics that are pushed so deep that none of the clones have any conscious memory of them, but are buried in the subconscious. Along with the Orders that would be enforced by the chips, there was the phrase ‘Jedi have Power’.  There are other trainings that get layered on top of it, but in the deepest part of the Clone psyche the most basic definition that they have for Jedi is ‘Jedi have Power’. But Power, as a term, is an abstract that can mean so many things.   And though they never realized it, the Trainers and Jango Fett and the Kaminoans taught the Clones a very specific definition of Power.  Power cannot be had by someone who belongs to the Republic and Power only belongs to those who use it (specifically those who use it to abuse others). 

By that definition their Generals and their Padawan Commanders and what is known as the Jedi Order are not Jedi. Instead the Clones view these beings as brothers (having very little grasp of gender) of a higher rank. Again this knowledge is buried so deep the Clones do not realize they think this.  It is instinct. Frankly the distinction is somewhat subtle, and is closer to how the Jedi wish to be treated (without the higher rank part) so no one notices the shift.

When Umbara happens the anger that the clones feel toward Krell is not the disbelieving anger of an idol's pedestal crumbling, but the same anger felt for Slick’s betrayal. 

When Order 66 happens, the Jedi become traitors. Except…the people that Palpatine intended to be killed were not considered to be Jedi. For Jedi had to have Power, and Power only belonged to those who were free, and only those who showed their Power. 

The way that many of the Natborn officers did. 

So the Clones immediately turned their weapons on the Naval officers who had been abusive, primarily to Clones or Jedi, but also some instances of civilian abuse as well. 

On Coruscant, Anakin begins to lead the 501st to march on the temple. Only, as soon as they realized where they were headed, they stopped their general, confused. There are no Jedi there, they say.   Anakin says something about Palpatine having the Power to save Padme. This leads Appo to the conclusion that Palpatine is a Jedi Traitor, who has done something to their General (which yes, but also no). The 501st stuns Anakin, with some taking him to the temple for deprogramming, or whatever needs to be done to counteract whatever the Jedi Traitors did. 

The rest march back into the Rotunda to hunt the Jedi Traitor Palpatine. They are met by Fox, who shrugs and goes with them (with his own platoon of CG) without argument when Appo says that Palpatine is a Jedi.  The active chips do muffle the Clones in the Force, a deliberate feature that Palpatine never thought could be used against him. 

So Palpatine, the shiny new Emperor, is Emperor for about 20 minutes before he is shot through with so many bolts that he is basically left a goo on the floor. This bypasses every single one of his backup plans, many of which could not be fully put in place until he was Emperor, so there is no ‘Palpatine returns’.

 At the temple roughly a dozen members of the 501st enter the Healing Halls, carrying a stunned Anakin Skywalker. Even stunned the healers can tell he is in some kind of mental breakdown. The healers (who do filter out anything that is not helpful o figuring out what is wrong with their patients, so ignore the whole ‘Palpatine the Jedi traitor’ thing) take from what the troopers have to say that they believe that Anakin may be possessed by something and that he is worrying about Padme Amidala’s health, both of which are causing the breakdown.  

So Padme is collected by the rest of the 501st and brought to the healing halls, and it is decided that Anakin will be kept unconscious until his former Master, Obi WAn,  is back on planet (if he is possessed then having his loved ones there is the best bet for breaking through and of Anakin’s loved one Obi wan would be the best equipped to not be killed). The healers, upon seeing Padme’s pregnancy, insist on a full exam. During this exam it is discovered that, due to a growth on her pelvic bone, a natural birth would likely be fatal to her and possibly the children (I do love the idea that Palpatine was feeding Anakin those visions, or that the visions were caused by Palpatine or Anakin causing Padme’s death, but it is also interesting to think that the visions were legitimate and the cause was something natural). Padme is scolded for not seeking out proper prenatal care, which would have noted the problem. The healers schedule her for an induced c section closer to her due date and ask that she check in daily (or sooner if she starts feeling anything weird) to make sure there is nothing else.

 The Coruscant Guard continues to hunt through the Senate for ‘Jedi’, of which there is less than you would think. Yes a couple of hundred who meet the clone definition, but that is out of more that 100,000 beings in the building at any one time (with almost 25,000 systems represented, if  assume an average of 2 senators per system, that is 50,000 senators. With a retinue of aids, guards, interns, and others that easily clears into 100,000). 

And there is just…so much confusion (I find that I love pairing ‘Order 66 happened differently’ with ‘and everyone is confused’, it gives me great joy). 

 From the point of view of the Jedi, between on moment and the next the clones decided it was time to mutiny and the only explanation that is given is ‘The Jedi are traitors, we must kill the traitors’ as the clones continuously fail to shoot any Jedi (Like even the stormtroopers of canon do not fail to hit their stated targets this badly), though the clones have shot many people.  

From the point of view of the Senate, between one moment and the next the Clones chose high treason with no explanation (Because no one conscious on Coruscant knew that Palpatine was a Sith and the beings that knew about the chips and Order 66 ended up pretty high on the ‘Traitor Jedi’ list and killed).   

In the Force, and the Manda, respectively, Palpatine and Jango Fett were watching this happening with their own confusion. This was not the plan. 

 The Generals do eventually get an order to the clones to capture instead of kill the ‘Jedi traitors’.  By this point the Coruscant Guard had cleared the Senate and were just starting to descend levels of Coruscant in search of Jedi traitors. It is not too long after this that Mace Windu is found and brought back to the Temple, near death.  They also figure out why the Clones do not consider the Jedi, Jedi. It is decided that they cannot correct the Jedi definition issue until they figure out the ‘shoot the Jedi’ issue. 

In this version the chips do not do anything to the personalities or memories of the clones, they simply reinforce the flash training for the Orders and remove any ability to disobey. 

With the 212th, Obi Wan had spent a decent amount of time over the course of the war finding excuses to get rid of nat born officers that treated the clones as less than sentient. With his mindset of ‘a certain point of view’ he was pretty successful. There were still a handful in the higher command (the higher the officer was in the command structure, the harder it was to get rid of them) but none of the natborn officers that would be on the ground, or even in communication with the forces on Utapau.  Though the activation of the chips and the death that followed caused a bit of a shiver in the Force, it was not the screaming darkness of Canon and was lost in the madness of battle.  

So it was not until they were being transported back to the Resolute that Cody, quite proudly, announced that the Jedi traitors had been routed from the 212th.  Obi Wan had questions.  Cody answered with things that explained nothing 

Obi Wan: Jedi…Traitors?

Cody (nodding): The Jedi have been discovered as traitors to the Republic, Sir,  a kill on sight order is now in effect.

Obi Wan: I don’t remember anyone trying to kill me?

Boil (Visibly offended, even through his bucket): You’re no Jedi, general.

Obi Wan: I’m…I’m not?

Every Trooper on the ship in unison: Jedi have Power.

Obi Wan (Internally):What does that mean? WHAT DOES that mean? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

Cody (Now looking a little concerned): Sir, you've gone really pale. Do you need a medic? 

They head back for Coruscant.  On the way Obi Wan receives a series of messages.  First, there are no high council members currently conscious on Coruscant. There should have been five. Anakin had been stunned by his own trooper, is possibly possessed, and is being held unconscious just in case. Agen Kolar, Saesee Tiin, and Kit Fisto have simply vanished. Mace Windu had been missing but was found and is now in Bacta with extensive injuries sans one hand. 

No one had been told that those four members had been going to confront Palpatine and as soon as Palpatine had been killed (in a hallway), his office had been automatically locked down. So no one knows that behind the shielding are the bodies of three Jedi Masters. 

Second, not only was the 212th not the only battalion to commit some form of mutiny, the 501st and the Coruscant Guard had apparently abruptly decided that high treason was a reasonable action. All the while claiming that they are hunting Jedi Traitors (with not a single person they shot being a Jedi).  The senate had also apparently realized that without the Coruscant Guard, there is not enough manpower to stop the Clones from killing whomever they wished (Much of the Senate had been so proud of the cost cutting measure of reducing the non clone security forces).

Third, since the remaining members of the council were spread throughout the galaxy (with Obi Wan being the closest), as soon as he arrived on Coruscant Obi Wan would be in charge of figuring out what was going on with the Clones, before the Senate found enough people to capture them. Then deal with the political clusterfuck of mutiny and high treason (as the Clones were considered part of the Order). Find time to help Anakin. 

Killing Grievous was supposed to give Obi Wan less to do, not more.  With the knowledge that there is something wrong with the Clones, he cannot even flirt with Cody (They had an understanding about exploring a romantic relationship after the war ended, but as stress relief both would flirt back and forth and see how explicit they can get before someone called them on it-The only reason no one had yet is because the 212th had a bet going on CodyWan admitting they are together and no one wants to be disqualified by influencing the results).  

It should be made clear, Obi Wan still does not know at this point that Palpatine is the Sith. He does not know that there are chips in the clones. He has no idea that Anakin had chosen to fall (though it did not really go anywhere) and is likely going to wake up half willing to slaughter everyone. He doesn’t even really know that Padme is a week away from being induced (still early but the healers do not want to wait any longer).

So even as he is contemplating everything on his plate, Obi Wan does not even know the half of it. 

By the time Shaak Ti, who had to corral Kamino (in which roughly half the Kaminoans in Tipoca city and a third of the remaining trainers were accused of being Jedi by both the battalion stationed there and the cadets), is back in contact, the bodies of the missing Masters were found.  She is the one to float the idea of a malfunction to the chips (the report about Tup and Fives was still in the ‘to be reviewed’ queue for the Jedi Council-The Council is about 12-18 months behind on reviewing mission reports).  

The news of the chips…does not make things better.

[gladiatorcunt]

I want to be non conned by Anakin ☹️

the first time i saw this ask, i was eating chicken nuggets (safe food moment) and was like "damn me too 😔." (obvious tw non con, choking, canon sw universe ani, delusional and obsessive behavior, forced pregnancy/baby trapping, reader has a pussy, use of the word “wife” in a gender roles way and “pillow princess”)

anakin can do nearly every variation and flavor of non con imo, his canon character allows for a lot of flexibility in that area. there's the soft and sweet gentle non con where he's smoothing his hands up and down your back as his thrusts bury you in the sheets. he's not crying, just a little teary because it feels so good and maybe you'll finally listen to him about how the two of you are meant to be together. that's very aotc anakin coded to me, not that rots!anakin couldn't do it like that in the right circumstances (and how you behave and react to certain situations).

for example in the beginning of aotc, and you're another padawan who's formed an unnatural bond with ani over the years. he's anxious to be knighted and you can tell that his mood is dampening more and more every day. all he says is that he has trouble sleeping, nightmares and obi-wans' karking loud snoring. you giggle and fall for the misdirection, tugging him over to the sparring mat. the next time you meet, you hear more about padmé and their history. he's being assigned to protect her so he can't be your training partner for the time being.

it's noble, of course, it's unbecoming of a jedi to be anything other than happy to see anakin follow the path you always knew he could. he has a light in his eyes you haven't seen in weeks and you attribute that to a person rather than considering the possibility that he's happy because he finally has a purpose. but you're 20 years old, being a (hopefully) future jedi master doesn't grant you any extra wisdom when it comes to love. you don't think much of pulling away, ani is going to have his hands full (of what you refuse to think further on) and you should start sorting out your priorities.

you've just made the biggest mistake of your life. outside the room where the senator is peacefully slumbering away, anakin can't stop overthinking and wondering what he did wrong. why haven't you been answering his messages, he's told you so many times that he could fix your holopad for you. he's so deep in thought that he barely makes it in time to terminate the insects deployed to poison padmé and chase after the assassin. he doesn't know that this time apart has allowed you to have an epiphany, and that you'll be gone by the time he comes back from naboo. perhaps there was more to the galaxy than being a jedi.

he tracks you down after his mother dies, feeling adrift without you and high off the adrenaline of indulging the darker parts of his soul. he wouldn't even have known you were leaving had it not been for a concerned message from obi-wan. you didn't even leave coruscant, you wandered down into the lower levels like you were waiting to die. well you don't get to do that without him, so he pins you down on the sorry excuse for a bed you've bought yourself and tells you that this must be what it feels like to make love. your tears mingle as you kiss slowly and flames lick at his back as you drag your hands down his flesh. he murmurs that it's okay, he can't lose you too and he knows just what to do, plenty of couples in the galaxy settle down young. he'd never abandon you, to leave behind what he has allowed to grow into his skin like an abscess is aberrant to the core of anakin's very being.

your pussy parts like the petals of a flower as he pushes his leaky cock into you, and it's so beautiful with his cum seeping out that he knows the force incarnate is between your thighs. you're still sniffling, and your nipples feel bitten to shreds, and that's alright. marriage day jitters are normal, he can only imagine how much more you'll glow when you have a piece or two of the force's son growing in your womb. he blushes and stammers when he asks you to keep his cum in and not touch yourself while he's gone, excited at the prospect of playing husband and wife until the mission is over and you can have a real wedding.

you tell yourself that you hated what your best friend did to you, but you keep your hand away from your begging cunt and smother yourself with the spare cloak he left behind. in a way, desire pools in your gut at the thought that you have to be forced to come out of your shell. you know anakin has grown up too hungry to hate fighting for his meal, and he has done enough proving himself. the flecks of blood matting the hair at the nape of his neck flashes through your mind as you grind your hips up against nothing. his movements were awkward at the first, but his sheer determination and passion had your brain leaking out of your ears by the end.

you remember feeling his dick twitch when you tensed, and he thought that you would attempt to fight but you only moaned and kept his head tucked away in the crook of your shoulder. the force radiated of embarrassed satisfaction that grew more confident with every squeak and groan. he liked seeing the fight drain out of your eyes more than the idea of you actually following through on it. your soresu never quite matched up to his anyway.

then there's the harder version. you resist more in whatever scenario and you delude yourself into thinking that anakin is the kind of dog that would throw away the bone he's chomping down on when he's bored of it. he manhandles you and tosses you around the room, shoving his cock up to the hilt and snarling at you to know who is doing this to you and love him anyway. your snot slides down the wall and your face is smushed against the peeling paint, blood drips down his length when he pulls out and he actually pouts in disappointment when he misses a few drops as he scoops it up with his fingers and takes them into his mouth. you're dizzy as he chokes you, your head spins when he spanks you while forcing you to ride his face. you will stare down the lightsaber handle of his devotion and push the button without hesitation.

you'd likely end up pregnant and waiting on your jedi husband to fall from one pedestal after the other. but the one reserved for the man of the house is guarded by you and your children, he bends over the gilded railing and kisses the breath out of your lungs. even when that pedestal drips with tar and becomes an ominous throne. this is a story that happened so long ago after all, nothing can be done to alter events that have already come to pass.

BUT ANYWAY, his prosthetic arm would also be a big focus in non con. no matter how hard he's ruining you or beating your body up, there will always be undeniable and inevitable love in it for anakin. punishments involving impact are dulled down and reduced to only his flesh hand. even in the gentler non con situations, he's so careful and aware of where his mechanical arm is at all times and what it's doing. there is no bruise he wants to give you when you did not deserve them, he offers it as a cooling balm of sorts to your heated skin in the aftermath. he likes to watch you lather the metal digits in spit as you suckle while you come down from your forced high, sometimes he swears he can feel the ridges of your tongue slide along the smooth surface.

he's so in love.

even with non con, i actually don't see anakin being all that verbal right after he cums. he'll have to calm down a bit before he can start speaking. but he'll silently nuzzle you and caress the spots on your body you wouldn't really think about, like the side of your sore tit and right on the plush flesh above your left hip bone. very touch you know and if you're able to pick up on it i imagine he would send out calming energy and just pure love into the force. but it's so intense you think you can see the smoke vapors rising up from your skin. visions of the future are shared between you, as well as eventual whispered promises of you being the crown jewel of his new empire. imagine the elaborate nurseries, putting the children to bed and then getting countless orgasms as thanks for being the best wife and parent in the galaxy. but he's sure to remind you that no one would ever love you more than anakin, even your children.

and i don't see him dipping into non con somno much other than the initial tease to your wet cunt and inserting his hard cock into your hole. the slow creep into your room, the creak of your bed as he settles his weight down, the soft woosh of the blanket being pulled off your gorgeous body. he'd want you to wake up and thrash around for a few seconds before giving in to how good he knows he's making you feel. because he knows perfectly well he could send out suggestions into the force that you put you deeply asleep and without chance of ever waking up until he wants you to. but your genuine reactions are so cute, playing with his soulmate is only fun if you can actively participate.

whether that be by crying or humping him desperately or clawing trenches down his back or riding him on the rare occasion your hormones have overpowered your pillow princess tendencies.

also this isn't non con related but in terms of love languages: other than physical touch, i think words of affirmation is a big one for him. actually being verbally reassured and given sweet nothings of his own to tuck away between his robes for him to focus on as he cuts down any threat to your eternal happiness. being told that he is worthy of love and that he's an incredible jedi, i think just being told that you're proud of him and that he hasn't spent years trying to be somebody to someone for nothing. blah blah he internalizes so much that it would help him to be given an opportunity to express those feelings blah etc etc and having you validate him would render his need to be on the council largely useless etc.

(he would unironically kill to be your alpha in an a/b/o setting i fear)

[saphronethaleph]

Niman, the Way of the Rancor

Jango muttered a curse, closing his commlink.

You just couldn’t get the informants these days. Jango had bribed people in the Kaminoan facility to be informed if anyone showed up asking after him, but he hadn’t managed to get them to realize that the arrival of a starship not long after he’d returned from Coruscant might be important.

And now he’d only found out that a Jedi was present when they’d actually asked to see the template for the clones.

“Boba,” he said. “We might have an unexpected guest. And we might need to leave – soon.”

“Got it, dad,” his son replied. “Now?”

“No, the Jedi’s coming this way,” Jango replied. “I’ll try and trick them, then we leave as soon as they’re not here. Is all my armour hidden?”

The attendance chime went, and Jango rolled his head back and forth slightly as Boba went to answer it.

“Boba?” he heard Taun We ask. “Is your father here?”

“Don’t worry about little old me,” a calm voice added. “Just here to visit.”

“May we see him?” Taun We added.

“...sure,” Boba said, after several seconds of silence. “Uh. Dad! Taun We’s here!”

Jango moved around the corner of the apartment, to look at the visiting Jedi, and nearly swallowed his tongue.

There was a kriffing Rancor standing behind Taun We. A Rancor wearing a utility belt, attached to which were two lightsabers – one about the size of a small claw, the other big enough that Taun We could have used it as a neck splint.

“Welcome back, Jango,” Taun We said. “Was your trip productive?”

Jango blinked several times.

“...why is there a Rancor behind you?” he asked.

“Hello,” the Rancor said, in that same calm voice. “My name is Knight Tosh. Can I come in?”

Jango was still staring.

“Isn’t it ‘may’?” Boba asked, in the tones of a child who was trying to notice something he could process.

“I’m not sure how big the hallway is,” Tosh explained. “If there’s a problem with my fitting in, that’s fine, I can sit out here and we can talk.”

Putting actions to words, she sat down.

Jango wasn’t sure exactly how he’d decided that the Rancor was a ‘she’, but he supposed they probably did have genders.

“...you’re a Rancor?” he said, still trying to get past that essential point.

“Yes,” Tosh agreed. “A proud daughter of Dathomir. I’m told I’m named for my grandmother, who was the first of us to learn to read and write.”

She steepled the fingers on her enormous clawed hands.

“Aide We,” she said, a little more formally. “I must inform you that I’m here for a number of reasons, not just one. You see, I’ve been looking into a recent assassination attempt on that nice Senator Amidala.”

“Oh, goodness!” Taun We said. “That is most worrying.”

“It is,” Tosh agreed, with a surprisingly kindly smile given that it was a Rancor smiling, something that Jango’s brain kept circling around to. “The assassin is dead, which is fortunate, and I believe that Jango here did us the favour of eliminating her. So I wanted to thank him personally, and also ask if he had any idea why that might have happened… why he might have been hired to kill that particular shapeshifter, that is.”

Then she frowned. “Oh – but where are my manners? We should really start with how it is that you came to be the template for the clone army! It must be a fascinating story. I assume your young son there is involved, somehow?”

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, taking the mug from Cliegg Lars. “I think that’ll be enough for us for now.”

“Not a problem,” Cliegg replied. “You and the other Jedi are the one who rescued Anakin from his old life, that’d be enough to make you kin here, even before all you’ve done for us so far.”

“We do our best,” Obi-Wan smiled, taking a sip of the drink. “Very nice. Thank you again, Cliegg.”

“I don’t know what I expected,” Anakin admitted. “I never really imagined what it would be like to have my mom actually marry someone, but… I think he’s nice.”

“It’s not something the Jedi have much experience with,” Obi-Wan said. “I’m just as lost as you are, Anakin.”

“Are you sure this is a good place to hide out, Obi-Wan? Ani?” Padme asked.

She frowned, and waved her hand. “I don’t mean… that it’s a bad idea to be here. We’ve only been here two days and we’ve already rescued your mother, Ani. But if someone comes looking for us… we’re hiding with the only relatives Anakin has in the entire galaxy.”

“I’m quite sure that nobody will find us,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Yeah, I agree with Master Kenobi,” Anakin nodded. “If I was looking for where a Jedi was hiding, I’d never even think of looking for their family. Jedi just don’t think about family. It’s not something we do.”

“But the people who are trying to hunt me down… they do think about family, don’t they?” Padme said. “Or they might, anyway…”

“In which case, fortunately, we are in a very large desert,” Obi-Wan said. “Mos Espa would have been a suitable enough place to hide out, but now we’re off in the desert. A planet is a very big place to hide someone, Senator – and if there’s anyone in the galaxy who wouldn’t try to betray us, it’s Anakin’s close family. Even before we rescued his mother.”

Padme looked conflicted.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said. “I just worry that we’re too easy to find here. I don’t know how rational that is, but the extent of the resources available to our enemies…”

“Where would you have preferred?” Obi-Wan asked. “If this isn’t where you’d have thought to hide, where would you have hidden?”

“I’d have gone to Naboo,” Padme replied. “Relatives of my family have a house up in the lakes, in the mountains. It’s wonderful and calm and nobody ever goes there.”

“Actually, I like the sound of that, Master,” Anakin said. “Are you sure we can’t change plans and go there, now? There’s a lake there.”

���We brought a lake with us, Anakin,” Obi-Wan replied, tossing his head to indicate the beaten-up old freighter they’d used to get to Tatooine. “Or a large swimming pool, at least.”

Beru Lars chuckled.

“You three are terrible at this,” she said, from over in the corner. “We’re grateful for your arrival, but… none of you know the first thing about hiding.”

“We don’t?” Anakin asked. “What do you mean?”

“ Tatooine is a planet with slavery, which means a planet with crime,” Beru told them. “If you’re going into hiding, you want to get a good balance between the support network and being impossible to trace back to your owners.”

“Of course,” Padme murmured. “It’s a shame the Republic hasn’t been able to do anything about the slavery out here.”

“That’s your department, isn’t it” Beru asked. “With your being a senator, that is.”

“Padme’s brought it up in the Senate a few times,” Anakin said, defending her. “It’s never gone far, though.”

“Part of the problem is that the Republic doesn’t have the ability to do much about it,” Padme admitted. “We have a navy, but no real army – and bombarding Tatooine to help end slavery seems like a bad idea.”

Beru inclined her head.

“That’s fair,” she conceded. “It’s easy enough to forget that, out here. And I’d bet it seems hard to remember there are people in chains, when you’re on glittering Coruscant.”

“We could be doing more than we are,” Padme allowed. “Once this is over, I’ll see what I can do.”

Darth Tyrannus looked at Jango, his gaze calm. Calm, in the way that the ground was calm, under a descending meteor.

He was extremely unimpressed.

“You told her everything?” he asked, his fingers drumming on his belt next to the handle of his lightsaber.

“Not everything, but… more than I think I should have,” Jango replied, somewhat embarrassed. “You weren’t there. It was… I’d like to see you concentrate on what your story is when there’s a Rancor staring at you. Complimenting you. Offering you tips on how to make tea.”

He shook his head. “Saying that she could smell Coruscant on your clothes. And that’s before the fact that she’s a Jedi.”

Dooku sniffed.

“I think that if I were confronted with a Rancor, and it pulled out a lightsaber, I would be relieved,” he said.

There was a sort of soft thump behind him, and Jango glanced up before going pale and holding up his hands.

“Good afternoon,” a pleasant voice said. “Dooku, it’s nice to meet you at last. Should I call you Count? Or do you prefer the name Darth Tyrannus?”

Dooku knew what he was going to see behind him.

He knew it.

But he had to turn around and look anyway, and so he did.

“Tosh,” he said, and this time he did take his lightsaber off his belt – though he didn’t light it. “How did you get here?”

“A tracking beacon, of course,” Tosh replied. “Well, actually two, one of them was in the fidget spinner I gave young Boba, but I didn’t want him to feel embarrassed so I stuck one to Mr. Fett’s ship as well. I must say, I do like the climate here. Pleasantly dry.”

She smiled, in a way that was somehow disarming until you refocused and remembered what the smile was attached to. “You know, we’re actually somewhat related! In the Jedi sense, at least. I’m not sure how you’ve kept up with master-student relationships in the Temple since you left, but that nice dear Yoda trained me for a few years.”

Dooku did his very best to contain a nervous swallow.

“I have surpassed my old Master,” he said. “I doubt even he could defeat me now.”

“Oh, that’s quite possible,” Tosh agreed, nodding. “Yoda’s always been sentimental, you know. He finds it so hard to fight seriously. It’s not something I’d call a character flaw, but it is what it is.”

She shrugged. “I’d very much appreciate it if we didn’t have to fight today, you know. Since I know you’re a Sith, what about if you give me information on your Master? I know that betrayal is the kind of thing the Sith like to do, and that way we don’t have to fight.”

Dooku evaluated his options.

All it would take for his plans to hold together would be for him to be confident in his ability to defeat this Jedi Knight. This mere… Jedi Knight.

This mere… Rancor… Jedi Knight…

The other option was looking appealing. It was difficult to deny that.

“It’s hard to believe,” Mace Windu admitted, leaning back in his chair.

It was a common posture in the Jedi Council whenever this particular Knight was reporting to them, and Mace felt a most un-Jedi-like pang of jealousy for Yarael Poof. Long-necked and calm, the Quermian Master was the only one able to look Tosh in the eye without either leaning back or standing up.

“Hmm,” Yoda mused. “Mistaken you are not, I assume?”

“Being mistaken is always a possibility, Master,” Tosh answered. “But the plan that Dooku told me does seem to make a good deal of sense… it’s one of those plans where the Sith would win no matter which side of the war was triumphant.”

She spread her massive hands. “It could all be a lie… but it does explain a few things, which leads me to think it might be true. I’d recommend at least testing it.”

“A good approach,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said, to nods from Plo Koon and Sasee Tiin.

“It ties into what Master Gallia has been discovering recently as well,” the latter said. “The Trade Federation’s involvement in this is unsurprising, but the Techno Union, Intergalactic Bank Clan… again, investigation is needed.”

A ripple of agreement ran around the Council.

“And what of the clone army?” Yoda asked. “Commissioned by us, the Kaminoans were told.”

“Oh, I thought the best thing to do was to send them to make sure that nice Senator Amidala was safe,” Tosh replied, with a pleasant smile.

Windu frowned, then looked over at Yoda.

“When was the last time we got an update from Kenobi and Skywalker?” he asked.

“It’s been… a while,” Yarael Poof said, doing his neck exercises. “Last contact was shortly after they reached Tatooine. They were going to avoid broadcasting to make sure they weren’t tracked down.”

Mace Windu activated a holocommunicator.

“Old Folks Home to Guiding Light,” he said. “Knight Kenobi. What is your situation?”

“Guiding Light copies,” a hazy image of Obi-Wan Kenobi replied. “Master Windu, I think we just liberated Tatooine by accident.”

“By accident?” Ki-Adi-Mundi replied. “How exactly did you-”

He stopped, remembering the missions that Kenobi and his Padawan had been on.

“Never mind, carry on,” he requested. “What happened?”

“Someone sent us an army,” Obi-Wan said. “We didn’t actually order them to do anything, but Senator Amidala gave some speeches and I think things sort of escalated from there…”

[skywalkr-nberrie]

It honestly makes me cry how Padmé in her dying moments and as she’s giving birth was aching and yearning for Anakin to be by her side. Just as Vader was in anguish and pain, and longing to see Padmé, to know if she’s safe.

In the last scene where she’s giving birth she’s in such a haze due to labor, and in such a state of “heartbreak” that she doesn’t recognize her surroundings and doesn’t even realize that people were beside her because she’s so focused on Anakin (+giving birth ofc) we see it clearly in the ROTS novel

We see here that OW is holding onto Padmé’s hand which he described as being “still and cold” clearly her lack of strength from giving birth, but also because she’s heartbroken and is somewhat becoming numb (as she dies 💔) she’s not at all responsive nor does she react to human contact. Then we see that she’s clearly muddled and completely unaware of her surroundings as it describes that her “eyes rolled blindly” and yet, she’s still thinking of Anakin (as she’s giving birth) when she says what the gender of the baby was, and that Anakin thinks it’s a girl, so Padmé thinks so as well.

Then, despite her lack of strength and motivation, we see Padmé pick up all the strength she has left to reach up to her newborn son, Luke.

After she’s given birth, again all of Padmé’s thoughts just round back to her aching and yearning for Anakin. Once again, not even aware of her surroundings or even able to hear anyone in her vicinity due to how heartbroken she is over losing her husband and this precious moment with him (the birth of their babies) OW clearly tells Padmé that Anakin isn’t there when Padmé calls out to him, yet she can’t hear him, Padmé continues to constantly call out to him, telling him she loves him, and that she’s sorry for the misunderstanding that happened between them (even though absolutely NONE of it was her fault.)

Then we come to this part where it reveals that Padmé with the same hand she touched her new born babies with, was actually clutching onto the Japor Snippet that Anakin had given her this entire time she was giving birth. Part of me believes she was holding onto it as a substitute for Anakin’s hand, hence why she was in such a daze, unable to recognize anyone around her, and kept calling out to Anakin. She desperately wanted him by her side, and holding onto the Japor Snippet was like a solace for her.

It was only in the last minute where the novel describes her eyes to have finally cleared for only a moment, and she recognized OW, and even in that last moment of hers, her thoughts are of only Anakin. And of her undying, unwavering faith, trust, and love for him. Telling OW with full conviction that there is still good inside the man she loves, and she’s putting the very proof of it into his palms 💔

OW shows Yoda the Japor Snippet Padmé put into his hand, and Yoda can immediately tell right away that it was a possession that was precious to Padmé, and that she must’ve cherished it a lot. He suggests that she should be buried with it, and OW taps into the Force at that moment and can also feel the “soaring echos” of the love shared between Anakin and Padmé to which he describes as “transcendent love” and can also feel what he describes as “a bleak, black despair of an unendurable heartbreak” (clearly referring to Padmé.) He agrees that Padmé should also be buried with the Japor Snippet, so that Padmé can at least go away in peace, with a remnant of the man she truly, deeply, loved, still with her.

[phoenixyfriend]

Aayla: Haha, let me show you this meme I just found.

The meme: [If you press the button, you have a 99% chance of getting a million dollars, and a 1% chance of being turned into a girl]

Anakin: That's so stupid, who wouldn't press the button?

Aayla: I mean, we don't really need the money, as Jedi. You're not on Tatooine anymore, you know?

Anakin: Yeah, but why wouldn't I press the button? What's stopping me?

Aayla: ...not wanting to be a girl, mostly. A lot of guys would refuse to press it on principle because they don't want to risk even that 1% chance.

Anakin: That's dumb, everyone wants to be a girl, some of us just have to accept that we can't, duh.

Aayla: ..........................

Follow-up: five hours, compilation

[awkward-tension-art]

Darkness on Umbara Chp.1 (Rex x Reader)

Hey everyone! guess whose in too deep!? me! I've clung to these fictional copy-paste men so much, you can call me a fucking LEECH!

Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 5. Chapter 6. Chapter 7. Chapter 8. Chapter 9. Chapter 10. Chapter 11. Chapter 12. Chapter 13. Epilogue

Landing on Umbara

cw: Rex x Reader, Reader is a medic, incorrect military procedure, graphic descriptions of injuries, blood, swearing, death and battle, Spoilers for the Umbara Arc, reader insert, reader is gender neutral, no use of (Y/N), if i miss a tag LMK

This is very briefly proofread so I die like a man

Minors DNI, even if theres no smut

Umbara was dark. From what you gathered, it was extremely fucking dark. 

You prepared your supplies with Kix. As medics, you both needed to double and triple check every pack, case and box. 

Kix would be on the front. His expertise was more front line first-aid rather than your position behind the forces. He would keep the men alive long enough to get to your hands where you’d focus on the more intense medical care. While you would be armed to defend yourself, it was better if you stayed out of the line of direct fire.

Your safety and position were tied to the status you were given. As a natural born human in the GAR, your life was inherently seen as more important than the clones. This thought process was something you were vehemently against. You and your fellow soldiers were on equal ground. You’ve always tried to treat them with respect, kindness and patience.

On several occasions nat-borns would disrespect or belittle clones in your presence, which usually resulted in a verbal lashing from you. Much to the joy of your General Anakin and his padawan Ahsoka. 

And the affection of a certain Captain Rex.

You peered up from looking over the medical supplies you were supposed to carry. Currently your secret lover was across the hangar meeting with the Jedi generals, ARC troopers and commander of the 212th. 

Despite being in his helmet, you knew you caught his eye. Rex didn’t give anything away except a small movement of his hand. Something Fives didn’t miss, who gave you a small wave.

He knew of your relationship with Rex. So did Anakin. But other than those two, it was secret. All for his protection, as clones were forbidden from romantic partners.

There was a surge of energy in the hangar and you looked around. Your eyes met Kix’s before you nodded to him, “Showtime.” The first wave was loading up ready to get to Umbara’s surface. 

“I’ll keep Rex safe until you touch down.” Your medic friend winked at you before he stood, got his helmet on and got to his transport. 

Scratch that, Kix knew about you and the captain too. 

Several of the gunships lifted, flying from the hangar down to the planet below. The first wave of troops, including ARF troopers, were being sent down to clear the field. From there, a second wave of back-up, your wave, would join them. Your command was temporary. All you had to do was get them to the ground before they took orders from Rex and Anakin.

You adjusted your gauntlet with the communicator on it. T-minus 5 minutes. Your fingers danced over your supplies, double-checking everything you had. 

Bandages, tourniquets, laser cauterizers, laser scalpel, bacta, patches, emergency suture kits…

“Ready, doc?” A trooper, Ringo, took you out of your thoughts.

With a nod, you lifted your pack and stepped up onto the gunship, “Ready. Let’s load up.”

Others followed your orders and soon, you were in the sky above Umbara. 

Despite the first wave’s efforts, chaos still reigned. Almost immediately your gunship was assaulted by artillery fire. A shot exploded next to you, shaking the entire air vehicle. A ship to the west of yours burst into an explosion of flames.

In response, your second hand shot up for stability. A trooper had their hand on your shoulder to help keep you steady. After a moment, the transport stabilized and you let go, stepping to the back where a crate of supplies waited.

“Dare, how close are we?” You chimed on your communicator. Hopefully you didn’t startle the pilot.

“Landing in 30, I can’t get to the landing site, so you’ll have to walk some to the staging area,” he responded.

“Play it safe,” You commanded, “Land where you can. And try not to crash, I like living and I'm sure the other men do too.” A couple of clones snickers in their helmets. Your little quip helped ease the atmosphere it seemed.

You prepared a speeder. The small vehicle had been modified to carry a patient and allow you to transport extra medical supplies. It was outfitted with some extra armor and protection as well, so in an emergency you could activate a rayshield at the cost of the vehicle's speed.

“Doc, landing in 10.”

“Good job.” You spoke into your communicator before getting on the speeder. You counted down in your head, and just as you got to 1, the doors opened. 

The troopers unloaded, guns ready. Shots were fired, though it didn’t seem as concentrated. Explosions were going off, but at a relatively safe distance. Seemed the first wave did a better job than you originally thought. Your speeder got to the ground, and you made your way to the staging area with the rest of the men.

The battalion had established some trenches, allowing a brief moment of rest and preparation for everyone. You stopped right at the small medical area Kix had skillfully established. Already there were injured in the double digits. Without pause, you got to work.

“You nearly missed the party,” Kix snarked, handling a blaster burn on the thigh of a shiny.

“I’d call this fashionably late,” you quipped back, getting your hands on a different soldier. Blood was seeping from the bottom of his damaged helmet, staining his blue and white chestplate in red. Your mind kicked into training, “What's your name?” You asked, voicing a kinder tone. 

The poor clone was clearly in agony, responding with a tremor to his words, “S-Stag.” He swallowed, trying to control his mental state.

These damn soldiers liked to pretend everything was fine. 

“Alright Stag, I’m gonna remove your helmet.” 

He didn’t argue when you pulled it off revealing the extent of the damage. 

Severe blaster burn. Missing eye. Jaw visible. Shrapnel from the helmet had pierced his cheek and temple. Concussion possibly. 

His remaining brown eye looked wildly at you. You recognized fear. terror.

So, you gave him a reassuring soft smile, “Not too bad, I’ve dealt with worse.” Your fingers quickly wrapped around an injector filled with painkillers, “Here, I’m gonna give you something to help with the pain.” Your words seemed to have a positive effect because he nodded and let you treat him.

You worked quickly and efficiently, stemming the bleeding and getting him stabilized. When you were finished, he had calmed down considerably. Once Stag was stable, you moved on to the next trooper. 

By the fifth, you realized one of them couldn’t be saved.

He was a shiny. Barely off Kamino you guessed. The plastoid of his chest piece looked to be shattered and singed from a bolt to the chest. His breathing was shaky as he leaned against the dark trunk of a glowing tree. 

“I need a trooper.” you called taking the soldier’s hand in your own. You learned quickly into the war that the clones always wanted to die with a brother near them. A reminder that they weren’t alone.

“I hope I’m good enough.” 

That voice. 

“Rex,” Your head turned, looking up at him. You wished you could smile, but you had to keep your excitement under a mask. Plus, the situation didn’t call for it.

His warm eyes were on yours as he pulled off his helmet and knelt. There was clear sadness, knowing that this was the end for one of his men. So the only thing he could do was offer comfort.

“Fyre.” The captain spoke softly, “You did well.” He put one armored hand on the dying man's shoulder. 

Wordlessly, you gave Fyre a shot for the pain and held his hand, “Everything is alright now.” you whispered to him. This wasn’t uncommon, when you or Kix were too late to save someone. 

At the beginning you would burn through supplies trying to save everyone, only to fail and lose them anyway. Over the course of the war, you knew to recognize when all you could do was ease their pain and let them slip away. 

It was the grim reality of the war. You couldn’t save them all. 

Fyre coughed and squeezed your hand. His eyes closed and the clone took his last breath. 

“Damnit.” you swore, checking his pulse. You only felt stillness. He was gone.

Rex sighed, “You tried. So, thank you,” He stood and helped you stand. He couldn’t let his grief from the loss overwhelm him, “I wish you stayed on the ship.” The clone captain admitted, “I get the feeling Umbara is going to be brutal. More so than previous battles.”

“You can’t get rid of me so easily,” Your eyes quickly scanned around. No one seemed to be close enough or paying attention to the two of you, “My darling.” you added, interlocking your fingers.

Your lover looked around quickly before he responded quietly, “Mesh’la, be careful what you say.” Despite his warning, he made no move to pull away. In fact, he stepped closer, “For now, at least.”

Of course, you knew the two of you had to reign in your love and affection in front of others. On the battlefield he was the captain and you the field doctor. Trying to push those boundaries would stress him out. Afterall, if his romance with you got to Kamino, they’d call for a decommission. Something Anakin would never go for, but better safe than sorry.

However, he warmed to small touches and brief moments whenever the situation allowed. 

Your lips had a small smile, “I’m glad you're not hurt.” you raised one palm to stroke the side of his helmet. The battle wasn’t even an hour in and already his armor was dirty.

“Promise me you’ll be careful.” Rex murmured, keeping his voice down, “Please, ner kar’ta.” He was being protective again. Normally the captain was better at prioritizing. He was the leader of the battalion first and your lover second. But right now he seemed…spooked. Were things getting bad already? 

Umbara must be getting to him. After all this assault was much different than other battles.

“I’ll promise if you promise,” Your lips quickly pecked his visor. It was chaste and fast, so no one could see. Just a sweet kiss between the two of you.

He was about to respond when his communicator went off. 

“General Skywalker,” Your lover pulled back and raised his wrist up. 

“Come find me, I need the status of our men.” Anakin’s voice sounded on the other end, “and tell our good doctor I said hello.” 

You snorted.

“Right away, General.” the clone captain said, returning to his professionalism. He looked at you one more time before stepping away to find the jedi.

You sighed, “Back to work.” Without waiting a second, you found another injured soldier and began to treat him.

Your eyes glanced at the shadowy sky for a moment, unable to shake the pit in your stomach. It felt like something was deeply wrong.

The darkness on Umbara must already be getting to you too.

[the-spaced-out-ace]

I am DYING to know your trans Pete headcanons if you have any 💚

oh god i forgot about this ask i am so sorry. uhhhhh i have So Many transoffski thoughts

Pete tried to cut his hair with office scissors the moment his egg cracked (and was rushed to get a real haircut that same day, all while he's still Processing)

Ted was the first person he came out to. To Me

Probably only very recently started T in NPMD given his squeaky voice and the "puberty's got me fueled" line

I cannot explain it but I think one of his earliest instances of experiencing gender envy was from Anakin Skywalker in Revenge of the Sith specifically

Additionally, he tried to name himself after Anakin but Ted vetoed that HARD

so he went for the next best thing. Peter after Peter Parker

Sometimes I think about the "I can't grow a mustache yet" line in Abstinence Camp and it leads me to decide that all Spankoffski men can grow facial hair pretty easily and he's slightly impatient for the day that his finally starts coming in

in my head Ruth and Richie are also both trans. You know how in gay friend groups one person coming out for the first time leads to a domino effect of everyone else doing the same? Yeah. Pete was the instigator for his.

More specifically he came out as trans at the beginning of sixth grade.

The Micro-Peter incident happened towards the end of the year because a bunch of 12 year olds really not understanding anatomy but understanding boundaries even less? Idk given the bullying he's shown to go through it seems possible (sorry pete

100% projecting here but rather than the stereotypical black his oversized dysphoria hoodie at age 13 was bright blue

[yourneighborhoodporg]

Hello! Could I request an obi wan x reader x anakin fic where the reader is a force sensitive Jedi? They have to go undercover for a mission and ani and obi are awestruck/distracted by reader in flattering clothes (that aren’t Jedi robes) and it makes them both realize their feelings :) feel free to make it a lemon if you want

Little Red Dress

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader x Anakin Skywalker

Warnings: Jealousy, Reader in Alluring Clothing, Brothel Setting, Some Life-Threatening Danger, Light Violence, Creepy(ish) Fella, Soft Smut (Minors DNI), all characters are over 18, Anakin Threatening Murder TM (why am I even surprised 😂), light banter, fluff, alcohol is around, boys being worried, HEAVY FLIRTING.

Song Inspo: Red Dress — MAGIC!

A/n: This took me way too long to get to lol 💀 Absolutely love this request idea which made it so fun to write. Wasn’t sure which gender you wanted for the reader so I made them female-identifying. This is my first request and short (lol) fic so please let me know your thoughts! Hope you enjoy :)

Words: 8.1k

She was built like a dream — Joseph Heller

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker were… uncomfortable.

Not because Master Yoda himself had tasked the three of you with this urgent mission to the Outer Rim. Nor was it due to the cloudy, dark, and incessantly rainy atmosphere that was Morlana One’s Leisure Zone— its backstreets dotted by the occasional lifeless streetlight that just barely reflected off the puddles below, paving the two Jedi a glimmering path toward the local brothel.

No. It wasn’t any of that at all.

Instead, they felt a foreign existence within their own bodies, with each nearing step toward the club’s shadowy entrance, on account of the perplexing, and frankly alien, wears that sheened their limbs.

Of course, they never had any styling choice in the matter. Not for an assignment like this, where the elimination of Jedi symbols was expected.

Because this was a mission that required a gentler, more covert hand.

Because this was a mission that had you all undercover.

Nearly 72 hours ago, unknown assailants had broken into one of the Jedi Temple’s artifact rooms. From the emergency cache, they’d stolen seven Kyber crystals, which were always held at the ready in case a Jedi needed a temporary saber after damaging or misplacing their own.

A facility Anakin took advantage of too many times to count.

But, on this occasion, the Order could only count themselves lucky that The Chosen One had again somehow lost his lightsaber during a short mission to the Coruscant Underworld, requiring him to report to that very same artifacts chamber for a replacement before he could continue his search down into the planet’s murky depths. By chance, the chestnut-haired Jedi had arrived just in time to witness that the usually locked, ornate wooden door was notably ajar. And, with further investigation, that the krystals’ storage chest had been ransacked.

With Council Member Master Kenobi assigned to the inquiry, he quickly learned from a few trustworthy sources, including his old friend Dex, that the crystals were flown off-world to be sold at auction. To a seedy establishment in the Morlani System, no less. All with an undetectability and swiftness that duped not only the inter-District and planetary departure security systems, but the Jedi Temple’s once-thought-impregnable apparatus as well.

Evidently, Master Yoda had found that this operation met a sophistication not often seen among the ranks of disparate pirates or common thieves. It was why, after Kenobi came to him with this information, the Grand Master decided that the bearded man and Jedi Knight who discovered the robbery would be assigned to retrieve these precious artifacts. Placing an emphasis on the need to arrive undercover, lest this sordid enterprise catch wind of a group of creeping, saber-wielding Jedi.

They just couldn’t risk it.

Any action like that would certainly force this gang to race underground once again, crystals in tow, before the Jedi had a chance to recover them.

So, the Council supplied Obi-Wan and Anakin with clothes of the region’s elite, aiming to disguise them both as potential buyers.

Kenobi, a black dress uniform with gold, reflective embellishments suffocating his suit jacket while fueling his growing desire to remain hidden within the shadows as it converted his torso into a glinting beacon under the passing lights. And Skywalker, a simpler, but equally sophisticated gray suit atop a pearly white button-down that screamed conformity louder than Anakin could voice his displeasure.

Still, leaving the crystals’ fate up to whether this gang would accept Republic Credits was a game of pure chance. That, and the notion of buying back stolen, sacred property was never the Jedi way.

That’s where you came in.

A Jedi whose Force-sensitivity was so saturated, that you had the ability to viscerally sense Kyber crystals from parsecs away. And a talent that, in Master Yoda’s opinion, made you the perfect addition to the team.

Well, that and the open secret that the three of you had long ago become an unofficial squadron already. Considering the countless missions you’ve traipsed through together for most of your Jedi, and even Padawan, years, it was a wonder that Master Yoda felt the need to specifically mention your name either way. Even on missions in which the rag-tag trio were slingshotted to opposite poles of the galaxy, you’d always found a way back to each other.

That, or the Force itself had a dire motivation to keep those momentary separations brief.

Perhaps that’s why the two men, in addition to their clothing-related distractions, had sparking nerves heightened by another, salient factor.

That you weren’t by their side.

Given your skill set, it was clear from the beginning your cover needed to be quite different from theirs. So, twenty hours before the auction was set to start, while Obi-Wan and Anakin prepared their disguises, you slipped out. Leaving for the brothel on your own since you all agreed that the only way to secure your cover as an establishment employee was by actually applying to become one.

It was the only surefire way to explore the back rooms without tipping the sellers off. The only option the three of you had to find the crystals’ exact location. And to ensure that when chaos did reign, the artifacts wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

Still, neither man particularly enjoyed this arrangement.

“You remembered to bring it, correct?” Obi-Wan voiced, glancing at Anakin’s pensively taught brows beside him as the brothel’s neon purple sign gently flickered into view, encouraging him to once again tug at his neckline’s taught clasp around his throat.

“Of course!” The younger Jedi acknowledged. “I was the one telling her that she should’ve had it in the first place.”

In spite of the underlying weariness still thrumming at his chest, Kenobi couldn’t help but raise an amused brow at his former Padawan.

“You? Lecturing Y/n about leaving her lightsaber behind? I seem to recall that it was your inability to keep track of your own that landed us in this predicament in the first place.”

Anakin scoffed, a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And I seem to remember Master Nu saying that the raid on the artifacts room wouldn’t have been discovered for weeks if it weren’t for me.”

Still, the chestnut-haired Jedi sighed, yanking down the tails of his gray suit jacket that just barely fit his longer form while he continued.

“Besides, it was no mistake. She didn’t take her lightsaber intentionally.”

Kenobi shook his head knowingly. Partly due to his former Padawan’s somewhat warped perspective of the situation, but mostly because he too was not completely on board with the notion of you being undercover and completely unarmed. Though, no matter how much he desired to do so, Obi-Wan had trouble denying that, like always, your reasoning stood sound.

A reminder that subconsciously made his heart flutter.

“You know, Anakin, that she couldn’t have feasibly hidden it away. It’s safer for her that we hold onto it for now. She will have it when she needs it.”

And that’s why, no matter his outward assurances, Kenobi seemed to have an inability to take his own advice. Perhaps too it was Anakin’s own anxieties that were infecting the Force.

But no leakage from his signature could truly reflect the hate Skywalker felt for this plan. He had shot down its premise the whole journey here, but in the end, it was no use. Anakin understood that once you put your mind to something, especially in the name of protecting the community you held so dear, there was nothing anyone in the Galaxy could do to stand in your way.

And he really did treasure you for that.

“I know,” Skywalker grumbled, pivoting to avoid a stumbling Bith with a curved bottle in hand, brown liquid sloshing out to land just beside his black dress shoe as he walked by. “But I still don’t like it.”

Evidently, no matter their confidence in your ability to take care of yourself, the two men remained deeply troubled by the fact that you were still far enough away as to be immune from their protection.

But that would soon change.

“Alright,” Kenobi slowed just beside the establishment’s greasy, revolving door to address the younger man as they neared their arrival.

“We will need to remain in one place so that Y/n can find us. She needs to know where we are at all times to deliver the signal. The zone’s blueprints suggest that the center bar will have the best vantage point. So that’s where we’ll go. Oh—“

Obi-Wan lifted a warning brow at the younger man.

“And don’t stray.”

Anakin rolled his eyes, lips pursing in an attempt to keep his face neutral.

“I don’t stray, Master.”

—

If you had your portable chronometer on your person, you would’ve checked it by now.

About fifteen minutes, you’d been waiting a handful of meters from the brothel’s storage room, disguised by the far corner tables nestled within the establishment’s shadowy edges. Marking it the perfect locale for distant observers of the night’s entertainment— or idly spying Jedi. Fifteen minutes since Krissa, a now fellow employee, shuffled into that very same room to collect a few crates of Fizzbrew for the opening bar. Nearly twenty hours after you’d secured employment as what the owner lovingly called a “Friendly Dancer.”

Luckily, it was during that same interview that you’d caught the colorful, Force-illuminated trail, leading your attuned senses to this secured back room, like a bloodhound to its prey.

Or a Jedi to her Kyber crystals.

Yet, despite your carefully chosen cover, both assumed identity and dark corner camouflage, you still had a nagging feeling that your specially selected ‘employee uniform’ wasn’t doing you any furtive favors.

Besides the strikingly crimson, skin-gripping short dress that clad your hips, the black, shimmering fishnet stockings and translucent platform heels were sure to draw some unwanted attention during a time in which invisibility was your best friend.

But you had no choice. If you had any hope of maintaining your cover and completing your mission, you had to work with what you were given.

So, for now, one of these rusted-over, ash stools would need to serve their purpose— concealing you from the trickling in throng’s broad perspectives as you kept a peripheral lock on that steel door’s sturdy frame. One by one, hungry bidders with puffy, expensive coats and sparkling wears thickened the atmosphere, all while you hoped Krissa would quicken her exit via the locked door so that you could slip in.

It was moments like these that you’d wished you had your lightsaber. At least then, you could’ve cut through the heavy, metal barrier all on your own.

But, alas, this was a mission of stealth. And you’d be damned to put either Obi-Wan or Anakin in danger because of your impatience.

Causing you to, once more, question their absence.

“Boys, boys. Where are you boys…” you hummed lowly to yourself.

Glancing toward the billowing crowd, you grew remiss at their absence. It was easy to recall how both Jedi were particularly against your decision to immerse yourself into this environment, alone and unarmed. So much so, that you assumed they would’ve arrived by now. An observation that forced you to consider how this mission was sure to sour quick were you required to act without backup.

You shook that thought out of your mind almost as immediately as it arrived.

Obi-Wan and Anakin would always appear when you needed them most.

And you adored them for that.

That, among the litany of elements that drew you into their lives in the first place.

Your first mission together was but a sapling in the times you were to share. Memories, little moments, and fleeting glances recently coalesced into the singular realization that you’d fallen in love with two of the most powerful Jedi the Galaxy has to offer.

But they were just that. Jedi.

And so were you.

So no matter your unquestionable feelings for the men, there was nothing you could do. Putting aside that you doubted any emotional reciprocation, you were sure too that they’d never break the Jedi code for you.

And that left you to again drag yourself back from those innermost thoughts to focus on the situation at hand. Specifically, your conclusion that any dearth left in Obi-Wan and Anakin’s wake would mean nothing of consequence if you couldn’t get into that storage room.

Luckily, there was no need to wait much longer.

Krissa shoved open the door, using her back to thrust it the rest of the way with a crate of clinking, dark green bottles swirling in her arms. Fluttering lilac dress flowing by her legs as her eyes landed on your surveilling form.

Kriff.

“Hey!” She scream whispered, brows stitched in reprimand while she leaned toward you. “You’re gonna get fired before you’ve even had a chance to work if you keep hiding from paying customers.”

You smiled sheepishly, playing into her assumption as you ‘stumbled’ to your feet.

“I’m so sorry,” you mouthed, ambling toward the older woman while lifting a hand to ripple through the force floating by her eyes.

You spoke lowly.

“You want me to help you bring out those crates.”

“I want you to help me bring out these crates,” she parroted in a glazed-over daze, arm catching the steel door just before it shut to allow you entry.

You nodded to her thankfully, even though she had no choice in the matter, before pushing your way past the chilly aperture, entering the stuffy storage room while the door slammed shut behind you.

Speedily, you surveyed the cramped compartment, stacked and spread to the ceiling with a strange concoction of alcohol-filled crates, charcoal cargo containers, and draped artifacts that evinced the basement of a museum far more than a brothel’s back room.

But you didn’t really give it a second thought. If you didn’t want to get caught, then there was no time to ponder aesthetics.

Quickly, as your eyes fluttered closed, you allowed the Force to thicken your blood, treating your body and mind like a living, breathing compass in its guide to connect you with your True North—

The seven missing Kyber crystals.

With vision consumed by blackness, you dodged each precariously placed box and every outstretched figurine that threatened to obstruct your path as your senses drew you a detailed map toward the back wall. Almost like a pulsing beacon, you felt the heat of your connection to the sacred artifacts deepen, warming your more-than-usually exposed skin. Intensifying with each, deliberate step. Until it reached a fiery blaze so extravagant that one stride further would’ve certainly lit you alight.

You opened your eyes.

“Hey!” A deep voice called from behind you, triggering your heels to spin around toward the sudden sound, and away from the loosely sealed cargo container whose subtle, yet familiar, blue shine confirmed your senses.

Swiftly, you absorbed the older man’s ruffly peppered beard and chilled brown eyes as his head poked past the slightly ajar steel door, barely masked snarl contorting his lips.

“I don’t pay you to ogle the merchandise! Get out there and mingle,” he continued, jutting a thumb to the club’s main room to his rear.

You leapt to your feet, making a mental note of the crystals’ location while scurrying toward the owner who seemed to have somehow grown at least one more gray hair since your interview with him.

“Sorry, sir,” you mumbled, twisting to get by his form against the door and entering onto the main floor before turning back toward him. “Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” he huffed, swiveling to catch the shutting door with his foot before leaning down to retrieve something from behind it.

Still, his muffled voice echoed beyond the subsequent shuffling.

“You’re assisting tonight, and I want high bids. So get out there and make them like you.”

You nodded complacently, already prepared to whip around and follow his orders until the older gentleman reemerged with another case of green bottles cradled under his arm.

“And here,” he shoved the crate, obliging you to catch it somewhat unexpectedly with opened palms.

“Take this to the bar.”

—

“I don’t like this…” Anakin droned during his casual stroll toward Obi-Wan’s side, a glass of orange fizzy liquid held inconspicuously before his lips.

Kenobi was leaning against the bar, his cup of whatever was on tap cradled between his fingers yet clearly untouched. Instead, the subtly troubled Jedi’s attentive eyes continued their periodic scan of the barely lit brothel. Flitting past the pockets of gold-illuminated tabled alcoves and dark blue paneling, his eyes weaved through the voluminous throng. One that featured intimately quiet mumblings among extravagantly suited clientele and gorgeously draped employees.

It wasn’t hard for him to surmise the highest paying customers from the number of brothel workers who’d hang from their arms, clearly on the job.

Smiling at each of their glances. Laughing at every joke…

Kenobi wasn’t daft.

He clearly understood the expectations a club like this had for its staff. At the least, for those who mingled with the bidders before the show. He’d only hoped that with whatever position you’d acquired for your cover at this establishment, it wasn’t pressing you to do much of the same.

And no matter how illogical it sounded in his mind, he still didn’t want to see that.

Moreover, it seemed to be a thought that equally disturbed Anakin, as his gentle thrums of anxious musing stained the Force, gradually amplifying since both Jedi had yet to locate you.

The younger Jedi had always been protective of you, Obi-Wan excused, unbeknownst that Skywalker was making much of the same defense. Though for the chestnut-haired Jedi, it was more the self-justification that he was a protective person in general. And that this was nothing more than only that.

Just Anakin being Anakin.

“I’m confident she’ll turn up soon, Anakin.”

The younger man expressly sighed, permitting a brief beat to pass as a spring of laughter ricocheted by his ears from a nearby dancer. Waiting for it to die down with bated breath before angling to respond.

“What if she didn’t get the job? She might be trying to find a different way in right now.”

Obi-Wan had no need for reaching out to the Force in order to confidently answer that inquiry.

“She succeeded. Trust me, I’d know otherwise.” He hummed, raising his glass to just barely grace his lips, but never daring to take a sip and weaken his awareness. “However, should they not show soon, I am considering they may have been apprehended.”

Similarly, Anakin vehemently shook his head. He even permitted a wry chuckle to escape past those formerly parched lips before confidently responding to the Jedi Master’s statement.

“No way. If Y/n got caught, she’d send us a signal the second she felt us near.”

Skywalker’s confident air faltered.

“Well,” he shrugged nervously. “Assuming she’s not injured.”

Obi-Wan shot his former Padawan a disapproving glare.

Until his attention was suddenly grasped by a warm, comforting hand sliding across his shoulder.

“Is this what you boys do when I’m not around? Theorize about my potential failings?”

The two men spun toward you, catching the playful smirk consuming your features before their eyes were tugged down like an anchor to trail your stunningly sheathed body, almost as if it was the first time they’d ever laid eyes upon you.

It would be an understatement to state that absorbing this captivating sight had coerced their jaws into forgetting their primary function.

The low-cut style of your short, curving red dress. The fishnet stockings that stretched down your thighs and softly clasped your high-heeled feet. The sparkling, green gemmed earrings that perfectly brought out your plump, red lipstick and long lashes. And, most noticeably, your loose, flowing hair that they’d only ever seen tied back for battle, now resting lushly across your bare shoulders like a still-life statue.

It wasn’t a side of you either men had the pleasure of observing before. And, if given the chance, they’d challenge whichever entity had so long sealed this wonderful sight from their burning eyes to a duel.

One that such an unjust creature was sure to regret.

It was a kind of fairy tale notion that both men pondered instantly once they felt a bubbling heat swarm their countenance when faced by your visual power.

So much so, that Anakin couldn’t help but break the brief lull as his suddenly dried mouth reached down his throat for an audible, and undoubtedly embarrassing, cough as he scratched his nose to try to hide himself.

Obi-Wan wasn’t coping much better. The Master Negotiator had lost all concept of Basic, its vocabulary, grammar, and everything in between as his mind was only filled with your enticing image, your pleasantly exposed skin, and the touch of your fingers to his body.

Until it was too soon gone.

Your hand fell thoughtlessly to your side, head cocking with lifted brows before speaking.

“You can close your mouths. It was just a joke.”

But it was Kenobi who first gathered the confidence to respond.

“Um, you look—“

“Lemme guess. Ravishing? The night’s main treat?” You relayed sarcastically while heaving down a large crate of clinking bottles atop the bar, one that both men only just now noticed before you whipped back toward the still stunned Jedi, drawing their gaze center.

“I’ll have it known that the distance between the storage room and the bar is a mere fifteen-second walk and I’ve already heard it all—“

“…like an angel,” Anakin muttered, not even himself realizing that he’d said that aloud.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly as you felt your heart skip a beat, sending an unexpected tingle to the root of your gut before sheepishly smiling at the deepening flush of the chestnut-haired man.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, tensely eyed his former Padawan.

“Okay, that one’s new,” you admitted, gaze trailing away to conceal your unpreparedness for such an unexpectedly sweet comment.

Ironically, it was at that moment that your wandering stare settling beyond Anakin’s shoulder abruptly caught a familiar, peppered beard. Accompanied by terse, beady eyes that scowled at you from a far wall with the intensity of a lodestar.

You had a decision to make.

But, really, was there a choice at all?

Obi-Wan would catch on, you thought.

Though, no matter how well Kenobi did understand the requirements of your cover, he still certainly wasn’t expecting you to, in a millisecond, swiftly stride toward his bewildered form to wrap your warm arms around his neck.

Immediately, despite the quickening of his thrumming heart latching onto his Adam’s apple, Obi-Wan raised his usually firm hands to gently clasp at your forearms, being sure to send you a questioning glance as he smoothly played along.

But under all that, and although he was still unsure why, deep down Kenobi secretly hoped that such a quizzical gesture hadn’t encouraged you to subsequently pull away. For some reason, he despised the thought of influencing you to forgo remaining this close to him.

So close, that he could feel the tickle of your breath across his chin.

Thankfully, though, his innermost prayer seemed to have been answered.

“Sorry,” you whispered, conveying an outwardly flirting expression of perked lips and a tilted head.

There were very few people in the Galaxy capable of reading the subtle apologetic shine of your eyes that deeply stared into his. An invisible utterance that remained firm while you briefly freed one hand to beckon over a confounded, and secretly peeved, Anakin who stood just behind his former Master, before you grasped his loose hand and tugged him forward with a terribly fake laugh.

Soon, you rested the younger Jedi’s arm on your lower back, securing its nervously flaccid form around your waist while Skywalker’s face transformed into a brand new shade of crimson once he discovered the dress’s open back.

A clearly readable reaction that deepened Kenobi’s hesitation with his former Padawan’s proximity to you. And while his mind struggled to connect the dots on why he continued to experience these strange bouts of discomfort, too distracted to truly pin down these sensations, Kenobi still felt fueled by Anakin’s expression to nudge you a little closer into his own chest.

If that was even possible.

Paying no mind to the sudden action, you addressed both men, giving a particular glance to Anakin who seemed to be the most caught off-guard of the two of them.

“The brothel’s owner made it very clear that if I don’t ’mingle’ with the customers, trouble will come my way.”

And that made the former slave’s blood boil.

“I’ll kill him.”

“No, you won’t,” you punctuated, temporarily removing your other arm from Obi-Wan to privately rest on Anakin’s balmy cheeks, caressing them down to draw his eyes to your level as he too struggled to fight off the festering heart attack that threatened to crack his rib, and deepened the sudden feeling of emptiness in Kenobi’s chest. “Because we have one mission here, and it’s to retrieve those stolen crystals. And I’m not losing my chance to snatch them away due to your needless protectiveness. I’m quite capable on my own.”

“What do you mean?” Kenobi inquired, taking this opportunity to regain some realm of confidence before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging you toward him with a roughness that would easily read as greedy to anyone who happened to be looking that way.

Still, the unexpected suddenness of his movement set the nerves in your face on fire. No matter, you played into the act, falling into his chest with fingers gripping onto the lapels of his oddly sparkly jacket.

“Um,” you swallowed, regathering your thoughts with a blink. “I’m assisting tonight. Meaning that I’ll be showcasing each item while they’re bid upon.”

You hummed to yourself while considering this new stroke of luck. A sudden vibration against Obi-Wan’s chest that you hadn’t realized sent a fresh, nervous chill down his arms as he held your mystifying figure, encouraging subtly wandering eyes to drink in the sight once more while his unsteady heart began to churn his innermost thoughts.

It was in that same moment that Anakin first caught onto his former Master’s charade, having finally glimpsed an equal measure of voraciousness within his distracted, blue orbs. Something that stoked Anakin’s frustration that began anew with each moment Kenobi drew you closer to himself.

“I say we don’t waste the credits,” you commented, refocusing both Jedi’s attention. “The minute I have the crystals in hand, I’ll send you a signal, and we’ll dash out of here.”

Obi-Wan leaned into you, forehead mere centimeters from yours as a spoke lowly. And for some reason, you thought, with noticeably erratic breath.

“That’s extremely risky.”

“Well, you have my lightsaber. Don’t you?” You challenged with a lift of your lips.

Suddenly, a trail of warm fingers raked up into your hair, sending quite an unexpected chill down your back once they clutched around a bunch and somewhat needily rotated your head toward Anakin’s expectant face. Yanking your body more forcefully before soon feeling his strong arm catch your side.

“I have it,” he spoke lowly.

And in spite of how desperately he tried to keep his eyes connected with yours, he couldn’t help that split second in which they sparsely flitted toward your perfectly tinted lips.

An action you apparently missed for your focus on the mission at hand.

But a gesture that contorted Obi-Wan’s lips into a perpetual frown as his mind caught up with his frothing feelings.

“Good,” you expressed. “Then I’ll have it when it’s needed.”

While your eyes remained focused and thoughtful, half a mind on playing up your cover with the other half on those crystals, Anakin had trouble keeping his eyes from once more wandering downwards.

The feel of your red-draped body against his, the closeness of your bared upper chest and noticeable cleavage, the sparkle of your eyes that comparably made your bright earrings look like clumps of coal.

Though not fully, Anakin was beginning to understand what was going on in his chest to draw his signature into such a volatile temper. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself when one hand released from your soft hair to trail down your exposed back, the other palm brushing upwards from your flank to meet the other side as he briefly traced the outline of your shoulder blades.

All of which sent a lightning bolt of cold heat right up to your head and down toward your sensitively tingling toes before he inched you toward him with the press of his fingertips while he whispered.

“Obi-Wan is right. I don’t think we should take the risk. But just in case you need it…”

Slowly, he retrieved a hand, raking it over your shoulder and feeling every inch of your arm while his mind cleared. The chestnut-haired man’s swelling eyes traced the enticing experience until he reached your hand. And with feigned gravitas clouding his features, he carefully guided your hand beneath his suit jacket, dragging it just along his warm back until you felt a cold metal resting beside his tailbone.

“…you know where it is.”

What was happening?

That was the main question you were asking yourself.

Were both Obi-Wan and Anakin just really amazing actors when the moment required it? You’d certainly never seen such a talent from either of them before. Yet the sudden naturalness, the near familiarity with which each Jedi pulled and held you close? The intimate touches and long glances while this secret meeting proceeded?

You weren’t sure what changed between twenty hours ago and now. Yet, in your core, you knew a part of your brain didn’t want it to stop.

No.

You were a Jedi. You were all Jedi. Committed to a code.

You must’ve been reading this wrong. Feelings that you knew you’d long held for the men had once again clouded your judgment.

Meanwhile, the growing tension between the two Jedi had heightened to a noticeable degree. But with your mind focused seemingly on other matters, it was only just to each other.

“You? Not wanting to be reckless?” You stated, attempting to suffocate your rushing nerves with a confident smirk. “Are you sure I’m speaking with Anakin Skywalker or do we have an imposter in our midsts?” You chuckled. “Oh, and agreeing with Obi-Wan?” You added, raising a brow.

This time, it was Master Kenobi who felt a fire erupt through his veins while his thoughts solidified.

It was you.

You who were making him feel such a way.

Ever and always.

On every mission and in each universal moment, it was you who made the Jedi Master take pause as his heart skipped a beat in your presence.

Master Kenobi was even more firm in this belief: that he was quite finished with watching Anakin cradle you in his arms for any longer. That, and the growing desire fueled by this new angle permitting Obi-Wan to graze over your open back’s supple skin with his eyes, drained him of all his decades-long self-control in an instant.

He needed to do something about that

Reaching a warm hand to the closest corner of your waistline, and with a little nudge from the Force on the other side, Obi-Wan tugged you right into his arms.

You felt the imperceptible, tiny scratches of his sequined suit jacket and the heat barely underneath sprawl across your back while his palms meandered up your sides and down each arm, soon folding them across you as he enveloped you against himself.

This time, you truly couldn’t help the light, crimson blush that bloomed across your cheeks. Especially when Kenobi chose this opportune time to gradually lean into your shoulder, chin dipping so that his lips hung mere centimeters from your attentive ear before whispering a warning with a tone warmer than you were used to hearing from the Master Negotiator.

Especially in the middle of a mission.

“You should listen to him.”

Still, despite feeling the ravenous desire to take a calming breath and smooth your hammering heartbeat, you held firm, responding to his inquiry with an overpowering confidence that usually settled any score when the three of you were having a disagreement.

At the same time, having just noticed the brothel owner’s decision to push off his far wall perch to approach, you decided to also strike a grin, raising a flirtatious brow over your shoulder at Obi-Wan’s unreadably dark eyes while you spoke, maintaining your cover.

“No. The plan stands. Trust me, there’s no need to worry.”

But, unexpectedly for you, witnessing your visually claimed figure in Obi-Wan’s arms barking out orders all while clad in that tiny red dress ignited a fierce burning passion in Anakin to challenge you back as he too decided to make his thoughts known.

Through his words and with his hands.

Taking one powerful stride to stand directly before your toes, the younger man just barely graced your bottom lip to seize your chin, lifting it upwards and twisting you to meet his wanting, blue gaze. Compelling your bright, widening eyes to wonder once more whether the lines between fiction and reality were beginning to blur.

Your breath hitched.

“Gentlemen!” The owner exclaimed, sliding next to Obi-Wan and Anakin to place a performative pat on both their shoulders. “I’m glad you’re enjoying one of our new hires, but I’m afraid that I’ll need to borrow her for the rest of the auction. We are about to begin.”

Wordlessly, both Jedi released their respective grips on you, sharing between themselves an unamused glance above your head while you ambled toward the owner. Never breaking your own, painfully forged smile.

But that seemed to be enough to convince the quite older owner that all was set to begin, as he swiftly turned on his heel toward the brothel’s far podium, motioning for you to follow his trail.

You promptly obliged, yet not before sending one quick, yet quiet, last word with a twist of your head toward the Jedi who begrudgingly stayed behind with crossed arms or a clenched beard.

“Wait for my signal.”

—

“I’m not stupid, you know,” Anakin commented idling by Kenobi’s side.

The two men continued their observations of the auction since it began half an hour ago, their eyes rarely drifting away from the rather cramped, rickety stage while you traveled from side to side, displaying each item with deliciously attractive poise. Presently, you were exhibiting an old, handheld marble statue modeled after a female Twi’lek. And although other patrons regarded the item with interest, the two Jedi meant to be watching your back for any danger had their minds on other matters.

Anakin couldn’t keep his eyes off your sensually pacing legs, while Obi-Wan could barely remain still with your elegant, tightly wrapped hips moving to and fro.

“I hear 2,000 credits! 2,000 credits. Do I hear 2,100?”

Master Kenobi readjusted his shoulders somewhat uncomfortably. “I know. I don’t believe I’ve said otherwise.”

“Don’t play dumb. I know you want Y/n.”

The bearded Jedi whipped his head from the stage as he addressed the seemingly jealous, younger man. And for the first time in a very long time, Obi-Wan began to feel those same, envious emotions with equal strength, like he’d caught some psychic disease from the blue-eyed Jedi’s glance alone.

“2,100! Do I hear 2,200? 2,200 folks, for this ancient artifact of an unknown Ryloth civilization!”

“And?” He acknowledged nonchalantly, taking an assertive stance while he found comfort in the memory of you in his arms. “And what if I do?”

Anakin’s lips formed a thin line, the image of your parted, shocked lips when he caught your dressed figure perfuming his thoughts. “Then you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ve noticed,” Kenobi stated sarcastically before raising a rather annoyed brow.

“Going once! Going twice!”

“What are you gonna do?” Anakin mumbled.

Skywalker had to ask the question. Even though he’d already confirmed in his mind that no matter what, no matter if Master Kenobi felt the same, that he’d give you the chance of knowing that there was more than one.

Obi-Wan answered simply. “I’m planning on telling her.”

“Sold! To the fellow in the orange top hat on the right!”

Because through the older Jedi’s musings, Kenobi was arriving at a similar conclusion. That if you in any way felt the same, he’d at least give you a choice.

“I assume you’ll be doing the same?” He continued.

“Yes.” Anakin sighed, eyes returning to the stage just as you remerged with an old, raggedy yet sealed box held tightly in your hands. “And what if she can’t decide?”

Obi-Wan followed the young Jedi’s line of sight, subconsciously licking his lips as the fabric of your tight, red dress pulsed his blood and slackened his jaw.

“Then we do what we must…”

The bearded Jedi swallowed.

Hard.

“…we help her.”

A rallying spark flung through the Force, filling both Jedi’s senses as they were wrenched from the momentary, visual distraction that was your ravishingly dressed person.

There was no way to deny it. Your pointed expression? Your readied stance?

The signal had just been fired.

Reaching for their respective lightsabers hung inconspicuously at the belt, both Jedi swiftly whipped their weapons out into the open, igniting a collective blue glow that provided enough of a shockingly, eye-catching distraction for you to leap from the stage, box in hand, without much recourse.

Then came the blasters.

As if emerging like shadows from the establishment’s dark corners, a sporadic group of armed men dressed like well-to-do pirates began their determined assault. Coloring the air with orange beams while the crowd scattered, hurried screams and the groans of abruptly shuffling furniture echoing off the walls.

You bolted for the Jedi, triggering both to somersault toward you while they attempted to block any bolt that you nearly failed to dodge before landing at either flank. Thankfully, that provided the chance to fling a searching arm beneath Anakin’s suit jacket, grasping your saber from its warm habitat before yanking it out into the open to launch its green luminescence.

“Go!” Obi-Wan cried, deflecting another round of bolts from your rear while the two men encircled you like a living, breathing barrier.

“We’ll hold them off!” Anakin agreed, flinging a badly aimed bolt toward a now broken and sparking light fixture above before facing you. “Get back to the ship!”

You glanced at both men, making clear your uncertainty and reluctance through the Force as, even with your aid, the gentle perspires of their efforts became noticeable.

But it was their turn to stay firm.

“Now! We’ll be right behind you!” Obi-Wan strictly assured.

So, with the box of crystals secured tightly beneath one arm and your saber effectively defending against the coming onslaught with the other, you decided to, for once, follow the boys’ instructions as you bolted for the exit, and out the brothel’s door.

And, with their hearts already racing, both Jedi had to do their best not to focus on your distracting wears as they paved a path to race after you.

—

Leaping through the red and white Nu-class shuttle’s rear hatch the instant it opened wide enough to do so was enough to coerce out an instant sigh of relief as your feet landed on the metal floor, drawing you deeper into the bird’s belly. Naturally, after regaining some bearings in the familiarity of the ship, you felt secure enough to set the relatively sturdy box of Kyber crystals atop a nearby ledge before turning to assess the situation behind you.

You already sensed that Anakin and Obi-Wan had stuck close to your heels during the entire escape, sabers twirling with elegant control against any threatening phaser until you strayed far enough beyond the brothel’s preview to lose any potential tails. So you weren’t surprised to find both men maintaining a similarly brisk pace while speeding up the ramp seconds after your arrival. Sabers long ago clipped back at their sides with Obi-Wan leading the way, leaving Skywalker in charge of closing the now slowly rising hatch.

What you weren’t expecting, however, was that the overpowering determination emanating from the bearded Jedi’s face had not in the least bit lessened since he entered the craft. Quickly, yet smoothly, he shed his gaudy suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously to the side as he subsisted his approach.

In fact, the slight narrowing of those blue eyes, an expression you’d only seen in the occasional sparring session, remained forwardly focused. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was charging right for you, an action itself that compelled you to perplexedly speak while his brown boots closed that ever-shrinking distance.

“What are you—“

Warm lips smashed against yours, moving hungrily yet delicately while Obi-Wan’s sturdy arms snaked around your waist to gently tug you into himself.

Your heart nearly stopped, and from the tingling, tiny explosions erupting at each and every nerve ending alone, you felt yourself fall into the momentum, arms raising with the certainty of a choreographed dance to cradle Obi-Wan’s head and run your fingers through his soft, auburn locks.

Whether consciously or not, his grip on you tightened, straining your breath before you had the unavoidable need to be even closer to him. You intensified the kiss, drawing his plump, reddened lips into slow and steady locks, only for them to release with the duration of a clap before you both deeply met each other again with needy swiftness.

It felt like hours, but it had been mere seconds since the instant his body met yours. Still, the two of you reluctantly pulled away from each other. Mostly to catch much-needed breaths from the pure, unadulterated shock of it all.

Master Kenobi held you still as your gaze graced over his flushed features, including that slightly tussled hair and darkened eyes that diverted from their usual bright sparkle. Especially when they flitted from your surprised orbs, to your plump lips, and back again.

But no matter this pleasing diversion, still, out of the corner of your eye, you were forced to notice Anakin— standing in the far corner in quiet observation, and chillingly reminding you of where you were and what important rules both you and his former Master had certainly just broken in his presence.

What made it all worse, though, was that for the life of you, you could not read the younger man’s expression. Apparently, he had just stood there, arms crossed once the shuttle door was secured and simply… watched? Impassively?

No, that couldn’t be right.

Then, he pushed off the wall.

Anakin’s arms fell to the side as he gradually approached you both, brows tightening into what looked like a slightly angrier cross that ran your brain into overdrive. You were still having trouble discerning his emotions through the Force, but could only make an educated guess that he was beyond frustrated that the two beings closest to him had just broken the Jedi Code.

And, also because, he didn’t seem to have any particular reaction to what Obi-Wan did, making you sadly doubt that he’d ever feel the same way you’d always felt for the chestnut-haired man and his former Master.

So, no matter how right it felt, how much you wanted it, you knew that it was time for some damage control.

“Obi-Wan…” you took a deep, shaky breath, nerves still firing at every end while your stare stood firmly on Obi-Wan’s wanting expression, Anakin nearing your side.

You loosely exhaled.

“Where did that—“

Hot moisture met your neck, Anakin’s wet lips attacking its side and extracting a startled gasp from your lungs as your eyes fluttered closed. Greedily, he cupped your throat to softy tug you toward him, draining your arms into a state of perpetual pliability from the pleasant heat filling your chest.

They slid, soon falling from Obi-Wan’s body entirely before you angled toward the younger Jedi and shakily twisted them around his shoulders for support. Another weak sigh escaped past your lips once you felt Anakin’s teeth graze across a sensitive spot as the weakening kisses continued, an action which only seemed to encourage the younger Jedi considering he returned to that spot with more fervor, sucking it dry until your jaw slackened.

Still, no matter how dazed your mind had become in this last minute of chaos, you just couldn’t believe this was happening.

It had to be a mistake, right? Was something else wrong?

Something must have happened.

Regathering your senses, you quickly pulled away from Anakin, feeling the resistance of your initial jerk snap Anakin from his equally influenced status as he quickly tried to give you space.

“Are you ok??” He asked rapidly, eyes seeping wide-eyed worry and flickers of guilt while Obi-Wan, who was initially calmly analyzing the show, too shifted to share a similarly concerned expression.

“Yes, of course,” you aired, still slightly out of breath as you stared confoundedly at the two men. “I’m fine Anakin, but what is going on? This is coming out of nowhere.” You shook your head. “Were the two of you drugged or something?”

“In a sense, I suppose we were,” Obi-Wan answered nonchalantly.

You raised a brow.

“Y/n,” Anakin uttered, drawing your eyes toward his. “Obi-Wan and I realized something back there during the mission. Something it looks like we both kinda knew for a while but didn’t really understand until now.”

Master Kenobi’s eyes raked across your figure once more while he spoke. “I saw you there, we saw you, truly, for the first time. And I lost my breath.”

You melted at his words.

“All I saw was pure beauty and you, and I couldn’t tell the difference,” Anakin spoke disjointedly, nearly making you giggle. “And I knew that seeing you like this, in this way, I couldn’t wait any longer. We couldn’t wait. We needed to tell you.”

“Tell me?” You asked breathily, preparing yourself for whatever was to come next.

“That we desire you,” Obi-Wan barely whispered, fluttering your stomach. “That you are more important to us than ancient statutes. And we determined that you must know so that you may decide if you wish it.”

You shuttered, worries of the Code fading into nothingness while the two men before you consumed your senses. “Decide?”

Anakin stared at you, a pleading glint in his eyes as he spoke gently.

“Which one of us you want back.”

Your still heavy breaths punctuated the otherwise quiet air. Characteristic of the thoughts rattling against your buzzed skull before a throaty mutter made its way past your teeth.

“I can’t…”

You watched while their faces deflated at your words.

“We understand, Y/n,” Obi-Wan spoke, a subtle sadness drooping his tone. “It’s quite alright—“

“No,” you corrected quickly. “No, I can’t decide.”

Anakin’s brows quirked at this, head tilting as curiosity subdued his brief listlessness.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

You sighed heavily, eyes drifting to the floor with an unaccustomed quiver. “I mean, I can’t decide because… because…”

You bit your lip.

“I want you both.”

Raising your head, you carefully observed the two men, bodies as still as statues while their swollen eyes held firmly on your figure. Anakin nurturing a steadily expanding, devious grin while he quietly flexed a fist, and Obi-Wan, faintly flicking his tongue across his top lip in an effort to carefully drink in your figure.

A pleasant chill ran down your spine.

“Is that alright?” You whispered.

Anakin chuckled incredulously, cueing Obi-Wan to respond to that inquiry.

“Darling,” he murmured, insatiable eyes sucking you barren as the nickname sent a new round of tingles down your legs. “That stretches far beyond ‘alright.’”

“How do you want us?” Anakin posed, tone nearing a growl.

Unfiltered, you spoke your mind.

“As close as possible.”

And the Jedi obliged.

________________________________________________________________

Should I do a part 2 at some point? Let me know :)

[yanderes-galore]

How do you think platonic yanderes working together between Obi and Satine with one of Satine hand maids reader  (since boi can’t marry her or have kids so their low key adopt reader without them knowing ) please sorry if this doesn’t make sense 

Welp... You're adopted now... Have fun with your new parents. Sorry if characterization seems off, I watched lore and read it the best I can! This is a generalized view.

Yandere! Platonic! Obi-Wan + Satine Kryze with Servant! Darling

(FT. "Uncle"! Anakin Skywalker)

Pairing: Platonic - Sharing

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, "Adoption", Anakin just sort of accepts the role as uncle, Dubious companionship.

You've been around Satine for what feels like forever.

You were appointed as her personal servant years after her first encounter with Obi-Wan.

Despite this, she's still quite in love with the Jedi... Even if such beliefs prevent the two from properly being together.

Your job was often to attend to Satine's needs and help her with political work.

In fact... you're quite acquainted with political work due to her status as Duchess.

Satine is a pacifist who wants the best for her people.

She has the ability to fight, yet she prefers to negotiate when she can.

Satine has always viewed you as the child she could never have for years.

When you first became her handmaid/personal servant... you were merely 15.

Now, it's been 4-5 years since then.

She views you protectively, like a parent ever since you were assigned the role.

Satine likes to ask for your opinion and is quite defensive about you.

Many close to her comment on her attachment to you.

Like a mother to a child.

Such characteristics only become more prominent when Obi-Wan is dispatched to deal with the Death Watch issue.

Due to Satine wanting pacifism for Mandalore, she has been met with opposition.

The planet is typically one known for a violent culture.

Pacifism was bound to create issues.

Which is why Obi-Wan was sent to try and not only protect the Duchess, but clear up the issue.

The two are not very open about their feelings with one another.

But even people like you and Anakin can tell.

Obi-Wan has never met you until this point, until he sees you following Satine around with a worried and stressed expression.

When the Jedi asks the Duchess about this, she explains that you are her personal servant.

Due to how well they know one another... I bet even Obi-Wan can sense the maternal feelings Satine holds towards you.

It... oddly makes him happy despite everything, really.

To talk about this generally... I like the idea of Jedi pairings being very subtle and essentially "adopting" someone they view as a surrogate child.

This could go for any platonic Jedi with their partner....

Yet I like this version of it quite a bit.

Obi-Wan and Satine know they can't actually have children.

They can't even show that they love one another except for some affectionate language.

So... you, Satine's personal servant, is the best the two can get.

The two would be such protective "parents".

You may not even entirely view them as parents, but the two certainly feel that way.

Satine knew you the longest, yet the longer Obi-Wan sticks around Mandalore for Satine, he gets it.

Satine talks about your youth like a mother, and Obi-Wan can't help but feel endearment.

Satine really does care for you, Obi-Wan begins to just for that reason at first.

Yet even as the Jedi gets to know you and sees how Satine coddles you, Obi-Wan can't help but imagine what a family with Satine could've been.

... Actually... Does he have to imagine now?

You may not be related to either of them, but at this point they're going to become your found family.

Even if you aren't entirely aware of it.

The idea of them secretly conditioning you to think of them as your parents is... unnerving yet also amusing.

It's small things, like extra care, protection, support....

Yet they keep it subtle enough for your own mind to fill in the blanks.

The two would be ecstatic if you accidentally called them 'mom' or 'dad'.

Just means what they're doing is working.

You may just be a servant politically...

To them you are so much more.

The first time you start showing signs of falling for their subtle manipulation, I can see Satine tightly hugging you.

Obi-Wan can't be as affectionate, but he is definitely fond.

Although in private with just Satine, I can see him hugging you.

The two are obsessed with the idea of becoming parents in your eyes.

It's a way to show their love.

The situation you're all in is stressful, yet you're constantly with at least one of them and coddled all the same.

Most of the time you aren't even serving anymore.

The two treat you like you're their kid and are insistent on you doing other things than those duties.

Like self-defense....

In public they're even more subtle with their care.

Obi-Wan really shouldn't have any connections like this.

No matter how natural they feel.

Despite this, he can't help but focus on how Satine keeps you so close to her.

You really do have a bond.

Since the two aren't overly violent, they'd just be protective.

Satine is a pacifist and Jedi are mostly meant to be peacemakers.

If anyone's dying... It's because you're threatened.

Many might find this baffling.

You're merely a servant, yet the Duchess and a Jedi are willing to get their hands dirty the moment Death Watch or any other threat points a gun at you.

I feel naturally Anakin may notice and decide to help out, for Obi-Wan's sake.

Obi-Wan and Satine remind him of Padmé.

So imagine if Anakin helped Obi-Wan protect you?

Safe to say, regardless, you are quite protected.

An assassin can't get close without somehow being dispatched.

The attachments the two have with you is endearing... yet may also come off as disturbing.

You appreciate the protection.

Yet it's also overwhelming.

Satine has introduced you to two Jedi that may treat you like a father and uncle.

In fact, when Satine dies and you're left alone, Obi-Wan may break the rules to take you off Mandalore.

You help him remember Satine, and while you can't be a Padawan, I can see Obi-Wan evacuating you to another planet where he can keep an eye on you.

Overall, the idea is cute... if not a bit disturbing and overwhelming for you as the obsession due to all the chaos and manipulation

Although, it does make me wonder about what could happen after Satine's death.

Would Obi-Wan constantly check in with you, even if it's against The Order?

That, and if Anakin views you like a niece, would he be in your life?

Would you get Darth Vader as an uncle?

It's not like he'd kill you... you're no Jedi and by this point, are not a servant anymore.

This one idea opens up so many interesting possibilities...

But those last few ideas are just food for thought.